


Beans

by skiesinlove



Series: Tales from Tokyo [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Asahi is a mess, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, Noya is a smol but supportive birb, Sex Toys, Slow Burn, Trans Character, handjobs, there's very little school in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 78,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skiesinlove/pseuds/skiesinlove
Summary: "Suga, the last time I was here I humiliated myself," Asahi said firmly, looking squarely into his mug. "He probably thinks I'm some sort of socially inept whale.”"Well, you are a little bit," Suga teased.Asahi's mouth fell into a dejected frown."Asa," Suga whispered affectionately, reaching forward to lay his hand down gently on Asahi's arm, "that boy looked at you like you were the only person in this room."Asahi glared even harder into the dissolving foam of his drink, but his heart fluttered.“Did he really?”





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out [jyassu's fabulous bartender AU](http://jyassu.tumblr.com/post/144583162796/asanoya-bartender-au-part-2-surprise-me-part-1) as it is the inspiration for Noya's character design <3

Asahi had always been in love with spring. The weather was mild, growth filled the cracks and corners of the Tokyo suburbs, and university would be starting soon—with it, the promise of something that would give him a sense of regularity and accomplishment.

This March afternoon was one of the last chilly days to enjoy before the scorching heat of Tokyo summers. Asahi picked out a light, caramel-colored sweater and strolled down the streets of the Meguro ward.

Originally, Asahi had gone on a search for a place to hang out near campus: preferably no more than a fifteen-minute walk from his apartment or the university. His favorite café closed at the end of the previous semester. Coffee was a must for Asahi to remain functional, so a new café was top priority before classes began.

Though the academic rigors of university were nothing compared to the nightmare that had been high school, higher education came with its own set of stressors.

As a second year, with more difficult gen-eds on the way, he could expect an even more taxing schedule. It was essential to find another serene place to think, study, and pump caffeine into his bloodstream.

Asahi normally found walking through the bustling streets around the university overly stimulating. However, that particular day seemed to be a bit too cold for most people to wander outside. It was relatively quiet, with few people sharing the ward with him, and Asahi felt somewhat contented. It was nice to wander without a particular destination in mind.

As he rounded a familiar corner store, he spotted an unexpected sign hanging over what was once a trashy bar. The sign simply read “Beans”, and it looked exactly like the sort of place Asahi had been searching for. There was some outdoor seating he thought would be great once the weather began to warm up. Plus, there was a red and white striped awning hanging over the patio. Asahi was a sucker for cute building accessories.

He crossed the street quickly, turning his head back and forth like a befuddled bear to check for traffic. The earthy smell of roasted coffee drifted from the building like perfume. Over the course of the past semester, his veins had become more coffee than blood. Suga had bought him a coffee pot that brewed on a timer, which was a mistake: functioning without that morning roasted bean smell had become nearly impossible. On the plus side, he already felt invigorated the moment he opened the door.

It seemed as though the new owners had done little to change the layout of the place. Many of the bistro-style tables and booths took up the same space as those of the old dive. The bar had been converted into a sleek, wood-topped counter with a few stools situated near the end.

Apart from some renovations—the lighting, décor, and the flooring—it was basically the same.

Even the crowd seemed similar, though the activities they participated in were very different. University students took up most of the sparsely occupied seats, but instead of getting blackout drunk they mostly buried themselves in their computers and headphones. Asahi was glad to see that the line was incredibly short and there were a few corner tables he would be able to nestle himself into.

Unfortunately, a short line meant Asahi would have to make a decision quickly. This was not a strong suit of his. Not wanting to draw much attention to himself, he slipped into line anyway and frantically perused the menu hanging over the cash register for something that looked fairly sweet.

Once he had made up his mind that the Polar Ice seemed like a good match, he relaxed slightly and gazed resolutely forward. The girl behind the cash register looked familiar—he recognized the silky black hair and startlingly grey eyes from somewhere. He thought they might have shared a literature or history class at some point in the previous semester but he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he was able to unwind a little when he saw her. Fewer strangers to interact with and all that.

That relief was short-lived when the girl stepped away from the register and said something indistinguishable over her shoulder. She retreated to the other end of the coffee bar to start on drink orders, leaving the addressee to look over the register.

Asahi’s pulse immediately quickened, blood rushing through his ears. He could feel his face flush and tried to hide the heat behind a trembling hand.

The person that had relieved the girl—Kiyoko, if he remembered correctly—was, for lack of a better term, stunningly attractive. Their features were somehow sharp and soft at once. Their slate-colored hair—sporting an undercut—jutted from their scalp at all angles, save for a single straw-tinted frond that fell between their eyes. And oh dear god their eyes. They were the kind of eyes that lit cities, that Asahi could get lost in if he didn’t stop staring. Glinting somewhere between hazel and gold, they seemed to shift slightly depending on the lighting.

The sleeves of their black button-up were rolled up slightly, showing off a few beaded bracelets. The apron they wore was also completely decked out in buttons. There were a few with images and slogans from TV shows and movies. He also noticed that this barista and Kiyoko wore buttons on the shoulder to indicate their gender, which was something Asahi had never seen before. This barista’s read “male”. Good information.

The barista wore a broad, sincere smile as they chatted up each customer brightly, and Asahi realized that he was actually ogling this complete stranger without blinking. The heat in his cheeks deepened so drastically Asahi was sure anyone remotely near him would feel it radiating from his body.

 _It’s like you’ve never seen a single hot boy in your life_ , Asahi berated himself. _Stop staring at him or everyone is going to think you’re some sort of idiot stalker and then someone is going to get concerned for their safety and call you out in front of the entire shop and you’ll have to explain why your eyes were glued to this guy and—_

“Hello, how can I help you?”

Asahi’s racing thoughts were cut off by a lively chirp from the barista he was _still staring at oh my god_.

All resolution had flown from Asahi’s mind. The meticulous time he’d spent determining his chosen drink was gone and he drew a blank.

“Uh…yeah um…I’d like…Um…”

He could feel the people in line behind him boring into his back with spiteful glances and he felt as though he might cry. He knew how maddening it was when someone didn’t have the decency to pick something in the hundred years they spent standing in line: a straight-up human inconvenience.

Asahi craned his neck to look at the menu again in order to stall, but he couldn’t make out the listings in his haze of panic. Briefly, he contemplated making for the door and never ever returning to the shop again for the rest of his life. There were sure to be other cafés in town he could fully embarrass himself at, why stop at this one?

“Can’t decide what to get?” the lilting voice interrupted him again.

Asahi glanced back and, much to his surprise, the barista was still wearing the same friendly grin as before. The combination of his smile and the sparkle in his eyes sent Asahi’s pulse through the roof and he felt his heart thrumming in his throat—that and the crippling, body-seizing feel of the irritation of line of customers.

“Uh…no I guess not,” Asahi mumbled, eyes retreating to fixate on the counter.

“That’s fine, it happens all the time! I’d be happy to make some recommendations,” the stranger chimed in helpfully.

“That would be great,” Asahi sighed.

“Well my favorite drink on the menu is called Rolling Thunder,” the man began, but Asahi interjected anxiously before he could finish, increasingly more aware of the row of glares behind him.

“Rolling Thunder sounds great, I’ll have a small cup of that.”

“Awesome!” the stranger replied gleefully. “That’ll be 350 yen. One Rolling Thunder, Kiyoko!”

Asahi hurriedly fumbled out four bills with a muttered “keep the change” and dove out of line to wait for his drink.

 _That could not have gone worse,_ Asahi thought, utterly defeated. _You definitely can never come here again after making a complete fool out of yourself like that._

It only took about a minute for Kiyoko to slide his beverage over the counter, but that minute felt like days to Asahi, whose shoulders were now caving in on themselves. He stared blankly at the walls, attempting to appear contemplative of the artwork. In reality, he was trying to figure out how quickly he could leave without causing a scene. When Kiyoko finished his drink, Asahi snatched it up with a mumbled “thank you” and made his way towards the door.

 _Wait,_ Asahi paused, _if you bolt now everyone is going to think you’re just running away and then they’ll all laugh at you and when they see you on the street they’ll point and whisper so you have to play it like that didn’t just happen until enough time has passed and then you can get the hell out_.

Scooting into an open table in the corner by one of the spacious windows, Asahi tried to take a few reassuring breaths. If he was going to stay for any length of time, he would just draw more attention to himself by allowing his nerves to take over. He clutched the scalding hot drink and let the warmth pour into his fingers, giving him a sense of reality.

Trying– _and probably failing_ , Asahi thought–to smooth the situation over, Asahi turned his gaze towards the window. He watched as people and cars streamed occasionally before him. Asahi generally used tactile grounding techniques in combination with visual ones. The heat from his coffee began to soothe his nerves, and he began a game he and Suga often played when he was growing anxious.

Staring out at the light array of passing cars, Asahi counted each black one. Normally, Suga would count the white ones, and when Asahi found he could finally think clearly, they would compare numbers. The winner usually won nothing but bragging rights.

Just as his pulse returned to a more comfortable tempo, his pocket vibrated intensely. Asahi jumped as he was pulled violently from his reverie. Exhaling his stress to the best of his ability, Asahi fumbled his phone out of his jeans and saw an alert for a text.

 

[14:20] **Suga-Mama:** Hey where are you? I thought you were going to text me when you found a coffee place. Want to make sure you haven’t gotten mugged  <3

           

A sharp pang of guilt twisted into Asahi’s stomach.

 

[14:21] **Asahi:** Sorry! I found a nice place but I kinda made an idiot of myself so I was a little distracted haha

[14:22] **Suga-Mama** : Do you want us to meet you? Daichi and I are almost finished moving into the apartment.

[14:22] **Asahi:** No it’s fine I should be heading back soon probably. Want to get out of here ASAP

[14:23] **Suga-Mama:** You sure? We really don’t mind!

[14:24] **Asahi:** Positive! I’ll see you soon.

           

Sure that his coffee was a drinkable temperature, Asahi took a small sip. He didn’t want to leave before trying the drink in case the baristas were watching and thought he didn’t like it.

He nearly spit it out. Dear _god_ it was bitter. Asahi still detested the taste of black coffee – despite Daichi’s assurances that he would someday acquire a taste for it. He would normally pick something with equal parts caffeine and sugar. If it was still too strong he would dump sugar packets into it until it was tolerable.

That wasn’t an option for him at the moment. The table equipped with utensils and additives was across the room, directly adjacent to the area of the bar where the baristas were passing out drinks. If he went over there, they would know he didn’t like the drink and it might offend them. That was the last thing on earth Asahi wanted.

 Like a devoted lover, Asahi swallowed. It burned all the way down his throat and into his stomach. Asahi had to hold back a gag, gulping down saliva to chase the taste. Thankfully, it was over soon. He could have punched himself right in the face, but figured the aftertaste was punishment enough for his earlier crimes. He stood as casually as he could, deciding he’d tortured himself and everyone else enough, and bolted for the door.

“Come back soon!” a cheery voice called after him, and Asahi’s cheeks flushed so hard he thought the blood vessels in his face might actually burst.

Not wanting to seem rude, Asahi turned around with the most genuine smile he could muster and held his coffee up in thanks.

“Yeah! Thanks for the recommendation!”

He made the mistake of actually looking at the barista. If Asahi hadn’t been dazed and desperate to leave, he could have sworn was emanating sunlight. Bumping shoulders with an entering patron, he mumbled an incoherent “sorry” and fled the premises.

The image of the grinning barista bathed in warmth followed Asahi all the way back to the apartment. It was like something out of a tear-jerking romance novel, but Asahi couldn’t push it from his brain. He’d thought people were attractive before, even sexy, but it had been a long time and Asahi couldn’t help but savor the feeling. It was like the glow the barista had given off was spreading from those amber eyes through Asahi’s limbs. If nothing else, it gave him something to focus on during the short walk home.

He was unable to stomach any more of the coffee, but decided against throwing away the ¥350. Besides, Daichi would appreciate the surprise since Asahi hadn’t been there to help them move in.

The apartment Asahi shared with Daichi and Suga was fairly nice. Even better, they’d managed to snag for a bargain of a price. It was old and not without its share of malfunctions, but it had character. Most importantly for Daichi, there was a gym in the main building. Though none of them were still playing volleyball, they’d agreed to meet with their former captain a few times a week to keep themselves in good health. Suga also assured Asahi that the rush of endorphins would be therapeutic.

Asahi had to jiggle his keys in the door for a solid thirty seconds before the lock finally gave way and he was able to creakily let himself inside.

“Asahi, hi!” a reassuring voice called from the kitchen.

Suga popped his head around the corner of the half-wall. He wore an apron and oven mitts and looked so beyond domestic that Asahi had to suppress a snort of laughter. With him came the calming, mouth-watering smell of snickerdoodles. The somewhat musty air was quickly becoming saturated with cinnamon and comfort.

“It smelled like ass in here so Daichi and I ran out to get some baking supplies.”

“Of course the first thing you’d want to do after getting here is bake,” Daichi teased, sitting at the rounded wooden table right outside of the kitchen, nose stuck in the day’s paper.

“You made us stop at four different stores to get today’s _Tokyo Times_ ,” Suga shot back, playfully smacking Daichi in the back of the head with a dish rag.

Asahi couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as he sank into a seat beside Daichi. He’d been somewhat apprehensive about moving in with his two best friends. They were a sickeningly sweet couple and Asahi didn’t want to intrude on their space; but he was already beginning to feel more confident. Though they had the tooth-rotting air of a couple that had been together since high school, Asahi never felt like the third wheel. It had been the three of them since he’d joined the Karasuno volleyball team as a first year. It just felt right to continue that relationship into their second year of university.

“Anyway,” Daichi cleared his throat, glaring light-heartedly at Suga, “what took you so long to get home? You were gone for almost three hours.”

“It took me a while to find a café. Oh, Daichi! I got something really terrible and I thought you might want it,” Asahi offered, placing the surprisingly warm cup on the table.

“Um. Thank you?” Daichi said, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I mean, I didn’t want to give it to you because it’s gross,” Asahi explained quickly. “It’s just too bitter for me. I don’t think there’s much syrup in…whatever it is.”

“Why did you get it, then? You hate the taste of coffee,” Daichi asked, pulling the drink gratefully towards him.

“That’s…that’s a story,” Asahi chuckled, twiddling his thumbs as the image of the hot barista popped back into his head.

“Well, the cookies are going to need about fifteen minutes to cool so let me go pull them out and then spill,” Suga winked, hurrying back into the kitchen.

Asahi was trying to figure out how to explain the situation without reliving each painful moment. Suga reappeared too quickly and plopped himself down on the other side of his partner. Daichi even folded his paper and flicked it across the table, intently focused on Asahi. Rubbing the back of his neck and grimacing, Asahi found himself relaying the account with as few details as he possibly could.

“I found this really cute coffee shop where that nasty old dive bar used to be—the one right across the street from the corner store. It was really nice. Quiet and pretty calm for an afternoon, you know? Close to campus. Significantly less vomit than before, so that was nice. Seemed perfect, right? But um…” Asahi had to pause, trying to swallow the grapefruit-sized lump lodged in his throat. “There was this barista…”

Suga and Daichi leaned forward expectantly and Asahi covered his face with both hands.

“He—was extremely attractive. I basically forgot how to speak. Or read. So I just stuttered there for a second in front of everyone until he recommended me that,” Asahi pointed at the cardboard cup, eyes sealed shut. “It’s called… Rolling Thunder I think? Anyway I panicked and took it but it was so bitter but I didn’t want to put sugar in it in case he saw me and thought I was being picky or rude so I just drank some of it and got out of there as quickly as I could and he said something to me on the way out so I know he saw me and basically I can never go there again.”

“Oh my god talk about first impressions—ow!” Asahi heard Suga say, opening his eyes in time to see Daichi elbowing Suga in the ribs.

“It’s perfectly natural to get flustered in front of someone you find attractive,” Daichi said evenly. “And I know it may have seemed horrible for you, but I promise that you were the only one who is still thinking about it. Everyone else has moved on with their lives by now. You don’t need to worry about being an embarrassment.”

“You definitely shouldn’t let this keep you from going back to that coffee shop,” Suga encouraged, still massaging his side. “Especially if there’s someone there who might give you some tail.”

“No no no no!” Asahi waved his hands frantically. “I’m definitely never seeing him again.”

“Do you remember what he said to you when you left?” Suga prompted.

“Something like ‘see you soon’,” Asahi rubbed his eyes. “I don’t really remember. He was still being pretty friendly.”

“I wouldn’t worry about going back in, then, if he went out of his way to say something to you,” Daichi reassured him.

“I don’t know…”

“What if I go with you next time?” Suga proposed, perking up a little. “It doesn’t even have to be about Hot Barista—you liked this place, right? I think it would be a good exercise for you to try to make it your new safe space.”

“Suga…”

“ _Please_ , Asa,” Suga said with a little pout, fluttering his eyelashes.

Asahi sighed.

“Okay,” he relented, suddenly emotionally spent enough to take a nap forever, “we can go back tomorrow. But I’m not flirting with the barista.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [dark-otter](http://www.dark-otter.tumblr.com) for editing!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://www.skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	2. The Hot Barista

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahi’s eyes were fixated on his face, following the way his lips fluttered around each word like pen strokes scratching across paper. He followed the movement of his speech down from the corner of his mouth to his jaw—cut sharp and angular and beautiful. The lines of his jaw drew up into the pointed tip of his undercut, the sculpted sides flowing into a series of carefully styled swoops and spikes.

The next morning, Asahi tore through his closet to find an ensemble that was the perfect combination of alluring and unexceptional. He berated himself for letting Suga talk him into this. There were probably plenty of cafés within walking distance from the university. Places where Asahi could sneak in and out of unknown. Places where no one’s first impression was that of a bumbling buffoon with no social skills. Places where there weren’t distractingly cute baristas with golden eyes.

If that were the only stream of thoughts playing through his mind, he wouldn’t have already tried on six separate outfits this morning.

“Asahi are you ready to go?” Suga’s soothing voice echoed through the apartment.

“Uh, give me just a second!” Asahi called back, searching frantically through the pile of sweaters and shirts he’d torn from his closet for something even remotely presentable.

Suga appeared in the doorway, looking fashionable as ever in raglan tee and grey skinny jeans. Asahi had always been envious at the ease in which Suga was able to dress himself—the pinnacle of style, always on top of the latest trends.

“Can’t decide what to wear, huh?” Suga noted, leaning against the doorframe.

“Guess not,” Asahi grimaced, massaging the back of his neck. “I’ve only tried on six outfits though so. It’s not the worst morning I’ve ever had.”

“Let me help,” Suga proposed, diving into the mountainous mass of Asahi’s clothing.

Suga and Asahi left the house about five minutes later—Asahi in a pair of khaki-colored jeans and a blue V-neck Suga swore complemented the deep brown of his eyes.

When Suga and Asahi finally left Asahi’s room, Daichi was in the living room watching some horrible 90s anime. He looked over his shoulder at them and whistled.

“Damn.”

Asahi flushed, but Suga sauntered right over to his boyfriend with a smirk. Perching himself in Daichi’s lap, he gave Daichi the sort of sickeningly sweet kiss of soulmates, wrapping his arms around Daichi’s neck.

It was so cute, but Asahi felt his chest clench a little as he watched them. When their mouths left one another, they looked into each other’s eyes like lovers of 50 years.

Adorable, but also a little nauseating.

How long had it been since someone had touched him like that?

“You know I’m still in the room,” Asahi reminded them, walking over to stand behind the sofa.

That was a mistake. Their gazes detached from one another to rest on Asahi instead, two sets of eyes glinting mischievously.

“Jealous?” Suga teased gently. “You know, Daichi, we _have_ talked about adding in a third before.”

“I don’t know, Suga, you know I don’t kiss nice. Think he could handle me?” Daichi replied, running a tantalizing finger along Suga’s jaw.

“I think you might have to worry about handling Asahi, my sweet love, have you seen him in his his underwear lately?” Suga jeered with a wink. “I don’t know if you could handle taking his di—”

“Aaaaannnddd we’re done,” Asahi cut in abruptly.

Suga and Daichi both burst into laughter. Asahi rolled his eyes, but let out a little humored chuckle.

“You two, I swear to god.”

“You love us, Asa,” Suga said, lifting himself out of Daichi’s lap with final peck to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Good luck at auditions today. I’m sure you’ll make first chair.”

“I’ll do my best,” Daichi promised, tucking a few bills into Suga’s pocket.

They shared another kiss—did they usually kiss this often or was Asahi just noticing today because he was particularly aware of how very single he was—before the two slipped out the door.

“Well, shall we?” Suga invited, gesturing for Asahi to take the lead.

“Sure,” Asahi said with a smile.

Asahi started north, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun spreading across his exposed forearms. Even when the weather was warm, Asahi preferred sweaters. They offered a shield from the outside world, like a cocoon he could wrap himself inside of. When he was feeling most insecure, he found some comfort in rubbing the soft cotton of the sleeves against his cheeks.

He was thankful that Suga had suggested something a little more revealing, even if it was still a 3/4 sleeve. Though there was a sheepishness in his presentation, he felt confident, more _there_.

“So,” Suga said as they turned away from their apartment down the road, “are you excited for classes to start again?”

“I think so,” Asahi responded, subconsciously walking a little bit closer to Suga than was comfortable—the streets were much more crowded that day, now that it was warm. “It’s hard to say since we’re still finishing our junior division classes. I managed to get into mostly history courses, so it should at least be some interesting material. And I’m going to be starting to decide on my region for my senior division classes, so that’ll be fun.”

“Still pursuing area studies then?” Suga asked, wrapping his arm around Asahi’s elbow to close the gap.

“Yes, but I’m having difficulty deciding on my concentration,” Asahi confirmed, feeling his pulse slow as Suga’s shoulder brushed against his upper arm.

Asahi leaned gently into his best friend. Ever since they were teens, Suga had always been completely at ease with Asahi’s anxiety. He had a natural instinct for taking care of people in general. Crying first-years, infuriated wing-spikers, discouraged middle-blockers, students failing their classes—all sent straight to Suga. He always knew what someone needed, whether that was a pep-talk or a warm hug or a swift kick to the rear or some jarring honesty.

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure!” Suga encouraged, flashing his signature smile that reminded Asahi of a warm fire.

“Thanks, I appreciate the support,” Asahi said. “What about you? Still thinking of going the education route?”

“I think so. I mean, I had a really difficult time with science when I was younger, so I’d like to be able to lessen some of that stress in the future,” Suga chatted pleasantly, waving away a small swarm of flies that were circling around his face.

“You’ll be a very good teacher,” Asahi agreed. “You’re encouraging, helpful, and you’ll be able to guilt any delinquents into becoming model students by targeting their self-esteem.”

This made Suga laugh so hard he started snorting—one of Asahi’s favorite things in the world.

“I’d like to think I only do that when it’s completely necessary,” Suga snickered.

“Suga, you once told me my hair made me look like a Yakuza so I’d cut it for volleyball season.”

“Oh yeah,” Suga snorted, sticking his tongue out at his friend, and Asahi couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“There was also the time when you told Daichi you’d break up with him immediately if he ever grew facial hair,” Asahi laughed, and Suga smacked himself in the face with a shaking hand.

“Oh _god_ I regret that,” he giggled desperately. “He’s so _sexy_ with it now but he refuses to grow more than a five o’clock shadow.”

They laughed together wordlessly for a few more blocks, snorting and sputtering. When they hit the corner store, Suga rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, and Asahi untangled their arms to do the same.

“Here it is,” Asahi gestured weakly, shaking off the last bit of laughter from his trembling body.

“It looks really cute, Asa!” Suga cheered, pointing at the patio and awning that had initially caught Asahi’s attention. “And there’s outdoor seating! That could be really nice when the weather is warm, like today.”

When Suga held the door open for Asahi, he was greeted with the dull roar of a room full of people. Most tables were occupied by college students and prospectives, sharing conversations over lattes, typing away on phones and computers. A few older patrons sat towards the outer edges of the room—faculty, if Asahi had to guess. It was as college as a coffee shop could be.

Yet Asahi felt constricted, claustrophobic. All of the conversations jumbled around in his brain, his own thoughts fading into an indistinguishable sort of white noise. He felt almost dizzy, and there was a vice on his chest, and there were too many people and too many eyes and if it was going to be this busy there was no way Asahi would be able to come here to study because Asahi needed somewhere quiet to concentrate and he needed somewhere to _breathe_.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Suga soothed him, hand on Asahi’s shoulder and voice in his ear. “You’ve got this. Remember our exercise?”

Asahi nodded. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. In for five seconds through the nose, out for five seconds through the mouth. Focus on your breath, focus on your lungs, drown out the noise.

When Asahi opened his eyes again, the café seemed muted and more vacant, as though he’d filtered the excess of people through his lungs. He was aware of himself, his body and his thoughts, both of which were begging for caffeine.

Asahi felt himself smile. He was in a nice little coffee shop full of students just like him, none of which were even the slightest preoccupied with Asahi or Suga. There was no need for him to worry.

“See?” Suga praised, thumping his hand on Asahi’s back. “Remember when you thought that was stupid?”

“I do. I need to listen to you more,” Asahi conceded, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning his weight onto one foot.

“That’s for sure,” Suga said. Asahi chuckled.

The line was longer this time, almost to the door, which left Asahi ample time to peruse the menu. His gaze scrolled over the menu, trying find the drink he’d originally intended to order. Right—it was Polar Ice: mint and vanilla and green tea.

He repeated the name a few times, just in case he blanked again. The line moved quickly, and every time someone stepped forward he said it again in his head. It should come out reflexively when he got there.

Which was good, because the gold-eyed barista was the one shuffling energetically through the orders. He tensed, trying not to stare because _lord_ , he really was attractive, with the most genuine smile Asahi had ever seen.

Suga’s hand found Asahi’s shoulder, gently kneading some of the tension away.

“What was it you got last time, Asa?” he asked lightly.

“Oh, it was called Rolling Thunder I think,” Asahi said. “But it wasn’t very sweet. I’m not sure if you’d like it.”

“I think Daichi has corrupted me, I’m starting to like drinks where you can actually taste the espresso,” Suga said sadly.

Asahi raised his brows and stepped forward. _Polar Ice_. There were only two people in front of him now.

“Did you just say that _Daichi_ is corrupting _you_?” Asahi said disbelievingly.

“Well, he’s corrupting my palate,” Suga sniffed with a little smile.

“I’m sure it’s payback for corrupting his bedroom.”

One person. _Polar Ice_.

“Sassy Asahi,” Suga trilled. “I like him. You should bring him out more often.”

Asahi rolled his eyes. The person in front of him was pulling out bills to pay, so Asahi repeated his order a few more times in his head while he watched. He trailed his eyes over the tip jar and the register, trying his best not to actually look at the barista. Behind him, Suga hummed lightly and murmured “so Rolling Thunder then” under his breath while he waited.

“Hi there!”

Asahi’s eyes snapped up. His heart thudded out of time, mouth growing swollen and dry as he made solid eye-contact with the barista. He was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, fingers drumming on the counter, smile blazing with gold eyes to match.

The corner of Asahi’s mouth twitched. It was meant to be a friendly smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.

“What can I get started for ya?” the barista continued, as though this were the most exciting and important question he was going to ask all day.

Asahi opened his mouth. He’d been practicing. He was surely going to get it right this time because even though his thoughts were completely blank his reflexes would remember the mantra from before.

“Rolling Thunder, uh, please.”

_What????_

_Why in the name of god did_ that _come out of his mouth?_

“Of course! Excellent choice,” the barista said cheerily, entering the order into the register.

Asahi felt himself sweating. Somewhere, the words _Polar Ice_ were still stuck on loop, but it was too late now. The damage was done.

“That’ll be 350 y—oh, thanks!”

Asahi was thrusting the bills across the counter before the barista finished his sentence, face basically on fire. The barista either didn’t notice or didn’t care to comment on the way Asahi’s hands shook as he took Asahi’s money.

Asahi made the mistake of looking up because he didn’t want to seem rude. Their eyes met, and Asahi’s brain wiped like it always did. He didn’t know what to say or do, whether to hold the barista’s gaze or to look away, whether to make small talk or shuffle along.

Thankfully, the barista broke first, striking up some idle chatter as he went to shuffle away Asahi’s money. He tried to focus on what the barista was saying, but his blood was rushing distractingly loud in his ears. If he asked any questions, Asahi didn’t register it.

Asahi’s eyes were fixated on his face, following the way his lips fluttered around each word like pen strokes scratching across paper. He followed the movement of his speech down from the corner of his mouth to his jaw—cut sharp and angular and beautiful. The lines of his jaw drew up into the pointed tip of his undercut, the sculpted sides flowing into a series of carefully styled swoops and spikes.

Asahi intentionally avoided the barista’s eyes when he turned to give Asahi his change. Instead, he stared at the button of his nose and tried another smile (note: grimace) of gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said shyly.

“Of course! We’ll have that right out for ya.”

Asahi’s heart skipped. It took all of his strength to keep his gaze down as he wandered down the counter to wait at the end of the bar for his drink.

Normally, Asahi’s thoughts would be spiraling out of control, replaying the situation on high-definition in his scattered brain.

Instead, he watched Kiyoko make his drink, listening to the barista speak as he took Suga’s order. He didn’t feel as humiliated when the barista’s tone was basically unaffected: just as bright, just as charming, just as casual as ever. As if Asahi had never passed through.

It was definitely a relief but there was a small pang in Asahi’s chest as his ear remained trained on the barista’s voice. There was nothing there to suggest Asahi’s social ineptitude had affected him at all. Not even a sliver of their interaction trailing along in his speech.

Asahi frowned. He was disappointed. Which was confusing because normally if someone was able to immediately forget Asahi’s awkwardness it felt like his birthday. Now, however, he was wishing there was something there as he made small talk with Suga. Some shift in tone or maybe a hesitant laugh or honestly _anything_ to prove that Asahi had been there and made an impact.

Radio silence.

Asahi’s frown deepened. What was happening to him? Normally, after having two interactions like that he’d run from this place and never return.

This time, though he wasn’t running. He was actively looking at the barista now and letting waves of self-consciousness and curiosity wash over him in kind.

Cute people came and went often out of Asahi’s life, but he rarely had interest pursuing anything. One of the joys of being aggressively bisexual and socially anxious at the same time.

So what was going on? The barista was checking about every box on Asahi’s “never speak to again” list. Yet Asahi couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away from a smile that seemed to brighten and warm the room more than the sunlight streaming through the windows.

He was saved from completely overthinking by Suga joining him. There was a devilish gleam in Suga's eyes that Asahi did not like as he linked their arms together.

"I can see why you're so drawn to this place," Suga said in a saccharine sweet voice.

"It has a nice atmosphere," Asahi replied firmly.

"Oh it definitely has a number of nice things," Suga said, eyes trailing over to where the barista was cheerfully helping another customer.

A tiny, bouncy redhead that Asahi didn’t remember seeing the previous day called his drink order. He shrugged his way out of Suga's grip and grabbed his scalding hot mug with a soft "thank-you" in their direction.

Unlike the first Rolling Thunder debacle, Asahi had the freedom to add whatever flavorings suited his palate. He added one sugar, grabbing a few others just in case, and headed to a table by the window.

The one sugar proved to be just enough. It wasn’t his favorite thing he’d ever ordered, but the bitterness of the coffee was masked and he could faintly taste something a little nutty in whatever syrups were used. Suga joined him a moment later, steaming mug in hand and a huge, smug smile on his face.

“Let me just say,” he said cheerfully, seating himself across from Asahi, “that you have _excellent_ taste, Asa.”

Suga rested his head in his hand, gazing with warm, wistful eyes at the barista.

"If only I were younger and more restless and Daichi were less serially monogamous..." Suga trailed off biting his lip.

Asahi nearly choked on his coffee.

" _Sugawara Koushi_ ," Asahi reprimanded, wiping off the splotches of his drink sprinkled on the table.

"What? He's cute," Suga shrugged, leaning back. "Those _eyes_ Asahi."

"Yes but Daichi's _thighs_ Suga," Asahi countered.

Suga cocked an eyebrow and tipped his head to the side, a smirk crossing his lips.

"True."

Asahi shook his head at Suga, fiddling with the rim of his mug.

"You're ridiculous," Asahi smiled. "You have someone like Daichi and you're still pining after every cute man within 100 kilometers."

"Never underestimate the lust of a very thirsty gay man," Suga advised sagely, taking a sip of his drink.

Asahi would chide Suga more, be more worried, if he hadn’t seen them that very morning wrapped around each other as if there were no one else in the world.

Suga finally peeled his wanton gaze away from the barista to look Asahi right in the eyes.

"You have to bag that guy," he said seriously.

"Suga, I already said I wasn't interested," Asahi replied, trying to meet Suga's unwavering stare.

"Then why did you order the drink you claimed was disgusting? Did your taste buds change overnight and you're suddenly a bitter old man who likes bitter old coffee like Daichi? Or," Suga leaned in with a devious smirk, "did you panic again because that barista is so hot your brain switched to auto-pilot?”

"Suga, the last time I was here I _humiliated_ myself," Asahi said firmly, looking squarely into his mug. "He probably thinks I'm some sort of socially inept whale.”

"Well, you are a little bit," Suga teased.

Asahi's mouth fell into a dejected frown.

"Asa," Suga whispered affectionately, reaching forward to lay his hand down gently on Asahi's arm, "that boy looked at you like you were the only person in this room."

Asahi glared even harder into the dissolving foam of his drink, but his heart fluttered.

“Did he really?”

"He did. He _likes_ you, Asahi," Suga encouraged in response to Asahi's silence.

"He's met me all of twice for a total of about forty seconds," Asahi argued, shaking his head.

"Give yourself a little more credit, it was at least a solid minute of contact," Suga teased.

"Still. We barely know each other," Asahi said.

"Then get to know each other! It isn't like you're planning on marrying him tomorrow."

"I'm... Suga I can't. I don't want to."

It sounded childish, and it probably was because the reality was that Asahi was afraid. Afraid of rejection, of mortifying himself again and having to move to a different city in the aftermath, afraid that they might actually show some interest because Asahi had no idea what he'd do with a relationship. Asahi's last romance occurred his 3rd year of high school. He had no idea how the rules had changed now that he was older and buried in school.

"You do want to," Suga challenged, still gently but with an edge to his voice. "You want to but you're nervous so you're trying to avoid it."

Asahi flushed, but had no response. Suga was too good at reading him.

"Asahi I know taking risks is just about the last skill you're the master of, but some things are worth it. You're interested, he seems interested in some degree or another. Isn't that enough of a reason to just... Take a chance?"

Perhaps, but chances weren't Asahi's forte. In fact, he tended to look at one and run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

"I can't Suga," Asahi repeated quietly.

Suga sighed, leaning back in his chair. His eyes wandered back to the barista, who Asahi could hear happily chatting with Kiyoko behind him. His voice carried on the air like lilting, fluid warmth—the kind you got from a blanket in January or a shot of good sake. Asahi couldn't make out what they were saying over the dull roar of the busy café, but it didn't matter; the vague inflections themselves made his fingers tingle against the ceramic of the mug.

Asahi wanted to try something, he really did, but his anxiety was outweighing his resolve and he couldn't will himself to fight it.

"Okay, okay," Suga relented, waving his hands in surrender. "You don't have to ask him out or anything. But this place seems really nice, so at least don't give up on coming here?"

"Alright," Asahi agreed.

"Good!" Suga chirped triumphantly. "It'll be good for you to get out of the apartment. It'll be good for my libido to get you out of the apartment, too."

"Suga, Jesus..."

"What?" Suga said innocently. "A man has his needs Asahi, and they aren't quiet."

Asahi groaned and Suga laughed. Though Suga dropped the subject of the barista, Asahi caught him glancing over at the bar too frequently to be unintentional. There was a glint to his eyes that Asahi had learned over the years to distrust, and Asahi's stomach twinged.

This wasn't going to be the end of the conversation about the barista.

* * *

 

Asahi and Suga were both in good spirits by the time they returned home. The subject of the barista had been dropped in favor of things that made Asahi’s stomach feel less queasy. Things with certainty, like their studies and Suga’s interest in applying to work at a bakery down the street. Suga linked their arms together, talking and laughing and putting Asahi at ease.

As they approached their apartment, however, Asahi felt his heart stutter uncomfortably.

“What the…”

All of the windows to the apartment were open, a haze of smoke pouring out into the streets.

Asahi glanced at once at Suga, whose eyes were narrowed but looked more annoyed than concerned. The tension in his chest soothed a little. If Suga wasn’t actively panicking, it was probably okay?

“Oh my god,” Suga muttered grumpily, digging his keys out of his pocket. “What the hell Daichi…”

Suga shoved the door open and a breeze of smoke puffed out from the apartment. Inside, a pale grey veil hovered around the ceiling. It didn’t look that dangerous, so Asahi exhaled a deep breath.

“Daichi?” Suga called into the house.

“In here!” Daichi called from the kitchen, and thank god he didn’t sound like he was on fire.

Suga and Asahi exhaled in unison, walking much more calmly into the kitchen. The cloud of smoke was thicker here than in the entryway, a little darker and angrier. An acrid, burning smell filled his nostrils, mixing with something sickly sweet.

The smoke was pouring out of the oven like a fireplace without a chimney. Daichi stood in the middle of the room, covered from head to toe in flour, some of which was piled on the floor at his feet. The culprit of the smoke sat on the counter: a charred pile of something that looked like it was meant to be eaten, at some point or another.

“Daichi, what the hell happened?” Suga asked, placing a hand on his cheek.

“Well…I tried to make cookies,” Daichi replied, rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic half-smile.

Suga let out a little snorting chuckle of amusement. He brushed some of the flour off of Daichi’s face with his sleeve, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Daichi, love, you know you can’t bake.”

Daichi shrugged. Asahi relaxed a little.

“I know, I know,” Daichi said sheepishly. “But I thought it might be a good way to celebrate. I wanted to surprise you.”

“What are we celebrating?” Asahi asked, seating himself on one of the barstools at their kitchen counter.

Suga’s brow furrowed, then his eyes grew wide. “Wait, did you—?”

Daichi nodded, beaming. “I won’t hear back for a few days but the dean told me it was one of the best auditions he’d seen in years.”

“Daichi!” Suga exclaimed, leaping forward and flinging his arms around Daichi’s neck. “Oh my god I’m so proud of you!”

Daichi laughed, wrapping his arms around Suga and smearing flour over both of them. He swept him up in a powdery kiss that left them both coughing a little, but chuckling and grinning. Asahi smiled at them. They were too cute sometimes, honestly.

“Congratulations, Daichi,” Asahi said warmly.

Daichi’s news didn’t come at all as a surprise. He’d learned to play the clarinet long before he’d learned to ride a bicycle. One of the most musically talented people Asahi had ever met, Daichi’s favorite hobby was learning new instruments. After he’d mastered the French horn, saxophone, guitar, piano, and trombone, Asahi had lost count of all he knew how to play. The clarinet, however, had always been his first love.

“Thank you,” Daichi said, releasing Suga and brushing some of the flour from his front.

“We should probably clean up your mess,” Suga teased gently, tugging on the collar of Daichi’s shirt.

It took about a half an hour for three of them to air out the apartment and clean up Daichi’s mess. The flour was swept and wiped off the floor and counters, the “cookies” discarded, and the oven set to clean itself. Daichi was banned from baking alone in the apartment again by Suga, but offered to make them all dinner to compensate.

“How you can be such a fabulous cook and such an abysmal baker?” Suga mused affectionately, seating himself beside Asahi at the counter.

“Baking does require more care and precision than cooking,” Asahi offered.

“So you’re impatient, basically,” Suga summarized in Daichi’s direction with a grin.

Daichi scowled over his shoulder at the two of them, but his expression was laced with humor.

“I don’t appreciate you two gossiping about me when I’m standing right here.”

Suga swung his feet back and forth under the stool, grinning. “We can always gossip about you in private.”

“Or we could change the subject,” Daichi snorted, rolling his eyes. “How was coffee?”

“Coffee was lovely,” Suga said cheerfully. “The café is really adorable and has a really nice vibe to it. You would definitely enjoy it.”

“And?” Daichi pressed, dishing up the curry rice he’d prepared.

“And?” Suga repeated, raising his brows.

“Did Asahi end up talking to that barista?” Daichi asked, eyes flicking away from Suga to settle on Asahi instead.

Asahi frowned. Why was everyone so invested in his love life all of a sudden?

“I talked to him,” Asahi said.

“Did you really?” Daichi asked.

“Technically,” Suga inserted. “It’s going to be a work in progress.”

Daichi nodded, squinting at his best friend. Asahi didn’t comment. This whole barista business was causing much more stress than it was worth. It was a _crush_ , one based purely off of aesthetic attraction which very low on Asahi’s list of priorities. The thought of starting something when Asahi didn’t even know his name wasn’t even terrifying—it was just plain absurd.

Daichi didn’t comment further on the barista situation. Instead, they focused on lighter topics. They talked about Daichi’s audition, about their collective grief over the start of a new semester, about seeing their other friends and getting settled into their new apartment. They continued to talk long after the last grains of rice were piling up in their stomachs.

After a while, mostly because Suga was complaining about his aching joints, they moved their party to the living room. They left the dishes in the sink (Suga praying that Daichi hadn’t completely ruined his nice bakeware and hoping an overnight soak would save it) and relocated in a pile on the sofa. Daichi somehow roped them into watching some Cowboy Beebop, go figure.

It felt so good, so natural and familiar for Asahi to be in this setting. Suga and Daichi might have been dating, but the three of them still fit together like the wheels of a tricycle. Asahi sat cross-legged on the sofa, head cradled into the crook of Daichi’s shoulder. Suga perched himself on Daichi, taking full advantage of his chest and stretching his legs over Asahi’s lap.

It felt like home.

Before they knew it, Suga was basically falling asleep in Daichi’s arms. He excused himself to bed around ten o’clock, leaving Daichi and Asahi to finish cleaning whatever they felt they could.

“I’ll do the rest in the morning,” Suga mumbled groggily, kissing Daichi on the cheek and waddling into their bedroom.

Daichi and Asahi worked in relative silence. One of the reasons Asahi had gravitated to Daichi in their youth was because Daichi never seemed pressured to speak. Silence could be intimidating, uncomfortable, but sometimes talking was so much worse. He never felt that way with Daichi.

“So,” Daichi said after a few minutes of silence, “what’s going on with this barista?”

Asahi’s mouth dipped downwards.

“What do you mean?”

“You were a mess about him this morning, and you came back and didn’t want to talk about him,” Daichi said, toweling off ceramic dish. “Did something happen?”

“Not really,” Asahi said, then clarified, “well, I ordered the wrong drink again, so that was a little embarrassing. But I drank it this time. I added some sugar to it and it wasn’t too bad.”

“Well that sounds good. Did you get the chance to talk to him?”

“I mean…when I ordered my drink,” Asahi said uncertainly, scrubbing hard at a bit of rice that seemed to have become one with a bowl. “I’m not…I didn’t really start a conversation or anything.”

Daichi hummed agreeably. He didn’t offer a response, some sort of judgement on Asahi’s less than descriptive recant. Asahi didn’t need to examine Daichi’s expression to know that he was thinking.

Asahi didn’t press, opting instead to wiping off the counters and stove. It was quiet for a long time. Behind him, Daichi finished up and leaned against the wall. The back of Asahi’s head burned with the intensity of Daichi’s gaze. He didn’t speak, not until Asahi threw the sponge back into the sink and turned to face him.

Daichi’s face was drawn into a flat, contemplative line. He was quiet, staring, like he was waiting for Asahi to say something. Asahi didn’t like that look. Even after years he couldn’t help squirming beneath it.

“What?”

Daichi’s mouth thinned out even more, squinting, deep in thought. Asahi felt very distinctly like he was being analyzed, or probed. Which was probably accurate. Daichi had a way of looking _into_ and not _at_ people.

Just like Suga.

What an annoying pair he was going to live with.

“Tell me more about this barista,” Daichi finally said. Asahi bit back an actual groan of frustration.

“Why are the two of you so invested in this barista?” he grumbled, slumping into one of the barstools. “The more you bring it up, the more I want to _not_ pursue anything with him.”

“I’m not asking you to pursue anything, I just wanted to hear about him,” Daichi replied evenly, seating himself beside Asahi. “I feel left out. I’m the only one who hasn’t met him yet. Although Suga was kind enough to snap me a photograph. Cute guy—not my type.”

Asahi shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the upward twitch of the corner of his mouth.

“He always does that, and you two have polar opposite tastes in men.”

“That we do,” Daichi agreed. His mouth relaxed just a little. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

And Asahi’s mouth fell downward again.

“If you’ve seen a photo of him you know just about as much as I do,” Asahi insisted. “I really haven’t talked to him much, Daichi. I don’t even know his name. I don’t know anything about him.”

Asahi shifted, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in his pants. He didn’t understand why his friends kept pressing the issue. He’d met this chirpy little barista _yesterday_ , didn’t know his name, hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words with him. For all Asahi knew, he could be the world’s biggest asshole. He could kick puppies in his free time or set buildings on fire for fun.

“That’s fine,” Daichi said, his voice low and calm. “I think you should go for it, though.”

“That’s what Suga said,” Asahi said despondently, “but Daichi I’m not comfortable just—”

“Oh don’t worry I’m not asking you to ask him out,” Daichi interrupted quickly, waving his hands. “That would actually be a horrible idea right now I think. But when was the last time you went out of your way to build a new relationship?”

Asahi opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He hadn’t really thought about that.

“I’m not talking about a romantic relationship,” Daichi continued. “Asahi, one of the best things about you is that you have a very good gauge on people. You don’t gravitate towards harm. If you’re attracted to him, regardless of how or why, that means there’s something good there.”

“You’re making me sound like some sort of guardian angel or something,” Asahi mumbled, tugging at his shirt.

“God no, you’d be a horrific guardian angel,” Daichi said.

“Thanks.”

“You’re a man of good instincts is what I’m trying to say,” Daichi pressed.

Asahi couldn’t argue with that. Maybe it was the anxiety (it was probably the anxiety), but Asahi tended to sense negative energy and bolt from it as soon as possible. Perhaps that was why the barista had caught his attention so firmly. He _felt_ good, like being around him made Asahi warm, if even a little tense.

“You should get to know him, Asahi,” Daichi insisted, leaning forward to place a hand on Asahi’s thigh. “How long has it been since you’ve made new friends?”

An offended retort was halfway out of Asahi’s mouth before his jaw clamped shut. Daichi was right. His first year at university had been mostly spent navigating classes and figuring out techniques to manage his anxiety out in the real world. Although he’d formed small bonds with people from his classes, none were concrete or substantial.

The two people he always gravitated to at the end of the day were Suga and Daichi. There just weren’t many other people in his life.

“Suga and I both worry about you. We love you, but you also don’t hang out with anyone else. It’s healthy for you to socialize,” Daichi said resolutely.

“You’re right,” Asahi sighed begrudgingly. He was out of arguments at this point. Plus, it was late, classes were about to begin, and he needed to sleep.

“Yeah, I know,” Daichi said in a light, teasing voice.

Together, the two stood. Daichi clapped Asahi on the back with a smile and some words of encouragement and the two ambled off to bed. They bade each other swift goodnights before dipping off into their respective bedrooms.

Once in his bedroom and out of his day clothes, Asahi felt some of the tension in his muscles unravel, leaving his body in a shaking sigh. He had a lot to think about.

Asahi flopped onto his bed. He really wanted to get to know this barista. He just needed to muster up the courage to actually strike up a conversation with him.

 _His name_ , Asahi thought to himself as he bundled up under his blankets and began to drift off to sleep. _Just learn his name. Start with the name and go from there_.

He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The best bae award goes to [floral-fae](http://www.floral-fae.tumblr.com) for being an A+ editor!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://www.skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	3. Names and Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Nishinoya Yuu._
> 
> Asahi rolled the name over silently in his mouth, enjoying the way the syllables felt on his tongue. At first, it didn’t seem like it fit him at all. Asahi would never compare this dazzling, radiant person to a darkening sky.
> 
> Then he reconsidered.
> 
> In a way, Noya was _exactly_ like the evening—a sky growing dimmer like the roaring in Asahi’s chest did, colors exploding everywhere in sight. A sun sinking into the western horizon, stretching out to glitz the earth. Really, those last dying rays of sunlight were the brightest of them all.

He couldn’t do this.

At least not at first.

In his defense, Asahi had tried almost immediately after that second trip to the café with Suga. The very next day he’d marched into Beans as confidently as possible with the full intention of picking up an actual conversation with the barista.

Every second he spent in line, however, chipped away at his resolve. By the time he’d reached the counter, he’d maintained just enough poise to actually meet the barista’s gaze as he ordered his drink.

“Hello again!” the barista asked cheerily, looking straight into Asahi’s eyes. “What can I get for ya today?”

Asahi’s pulse went through the roof, hands growing sweaty and cold, but he’d held those hazel eyes with conviction.

“A small Rolling Thunder please,” Asahi had replied in a surprisingly even voice. His heart was still pounding hard in his throat.

“Seems like that’s becoming a regular for you,” the barista observed with a grin. “Glad I got you hooked.”

 _Oh god he remembered_ , Asahi thought, growing hot and cold everywhere all at once. _He remembers me oh god_.

Asahi opened his mouth but nothing came out. He’d only come into the café twice, and still the barista not only remembered him but remembered his drink as well. There was a smile on his lips as he spoke too. Granted, there was always a smile, but Asahi was sure it got just a little bigger as they talked.

“So how’s your day going today?” the barista continued in a shining voice.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Asahi replied with a hammering heart. “How about you?”

“It’s the best day ever!” the barista chirped without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

His response made Asahi glow for some reason, made him genuinely smile for possibly the first time since they’d met. They parted ways after that, the barista assuring him that his drink would be waiting at the bar shortly.

Even though he hadn’t accomplished his primary goal, Asahi went away from the conversation feeling like a warm fire was burning in his chest.

Thus, Asahi and the barista formed a simple routine; the barista would ask how Asahi was doing that day, and Asahi would respond with some variation of "oh, I'm good. You?", to which the barista would respond "best day ever," with far too much enthusiasm. They never really engaged in any further conversation, other than some very basic small talk about the weather or something of equal unimportance.

Asahi would then order his drink, pay, wait, and finally sit down at one of the tables at the back of the café closest to the windows.

He also found that he always ordered the initially disgusting Rolling Thunder. The bitterness of the coffee was never pleasant exactly, but the more he drank it, the more the nuttiness came through and he found himself beginning to crave it.

Asahi visited every day.

He didn’t always catch the barista—sometimes greeted instead by Kiyoko or the little ball of redheaded barista sunshine—but when he did it was like his entire world lit up. Their interactions never lasted for longer than a few sentences. Still, they always left Asahi bathed in warmth, walking away to his corner table on air.

Seeing the barista soothed something inside him he never thought could be soothed. His entire life there had always been this thing looming always on the outskirts of his mind. It would bite without warning, sometimes leaving Asahi rubbing the back of his neck and ducking his head, sometimes leaving him sobbing and gasping for air. It came and went without warning, leaving Asahi a little on the edge all the time.

It was a constant, at least. Like a safety blanket of doom.

He knew some things to avoid that would always bring it on without fail. Talking to strangers, loud noises, crowded spaces, and small dogs, just to name a few.

The barista and the cafe often hit three of those check-boxes, so for all intents and purposes Asahi should have been avoiding Beans like the plague.

He didn’t, though, because the barista’s smile warmed him all over, and the barista’s eyes made his stomach squirm—not like it did when a teacher forced him to speak in class, but this wonderful sort of bubbliness that was worth the anxiety of coming up with ways to talk to him.

Asahi still felt nervous every time, but it was a nice sort of nervous, an anticipatory sort of nervous that made him want to keep coming back.

Throughout everything, Daichi had been relentless.

He bothered Asahi every day, nagging him to “get it over with already”. So it wasn’t a surprise when Daichi brought it up right before they went their respective ways one Sunday morning.

“Have you learned his name yet?” Daichi asked, like he always did.

It had been just over two weeks—seventeen days, not that Asahi counted every second—and he just hadn’t gotten there yet. The barista hadn’t asked, and it never seemed necessary to their conversations.

Asahi was curious, of course, but it didn’t seem like the most important thing to focus on.

It was so much more important for Asahi to memorize the way his cupid’s bow curved into the corner of his mouth like a ribbon when he smiled; to meet those amber eyes and hold that gaze one second longer each time.

“Not yet,” Asahi said with an edge to his voice. “I’ve promised I’d tell you when I do.”

“If you don’t get it soon he might slip through your fingers,” Daichi warned.

“I know, I know,” Asahi said, fiddling with the straps on his satchel. “I’m working on it.”

“Only you could talk to the same person every day and not know their name,” Daichi said, shaking his head.

Asahi didn’t respond. He couldn’t explain to Daichi that the name wasn’t crucial to…whatever this relationship he was forming was. It would come when it came. What mattered was the barista, and the fact that he seemed excited every time Asahi came up to the counter to make their small talk.

“Today, Asahi,” Daichi pressed, shoving far too many miscellaneous items into his backpack.

“You know nagging me like this isn’t making me want to do it any more,” Asahi grumbled, shouldering his bag.

“If I don’t nag you’re never going to do it,” Daichi said firmly.

“I don’t operate well under pressure,” Asahi scowled. Daichi just shrugged.

“I’m just saying, if you don’t come home with his name today I’m going to evict you,” Daichi said seriously, his gaze hard and unmoving. “And you’ll have to camp out at that coffee shop until you get it.”

Asahi frowned. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

Daichi grasped Asahi’s shoulders, giving him a strong squeeze before quite literally shoving him out the door. Far from feeling reassured, Asahi felt more nervous than ever. There was an incredible pressure bearing down on Asahi’s shoulders, like Daichi’s hands had deposited lead there.

How was he supposed to work this into their conversation? He’d always assumed the name thing would happen organically. They’d reach it when it became important. If Asahi forced it, the barista might get uncomfortable. Asahi didn’t want that. He didn’t want to pry into the barista’s life.

Thinking about it now, it definitely was odd that they hadn’t properly introduced themselves yet.

Maybe it was better if Asahi _did_ force it, if he was the one initiating for once. Maybe the barista was waiting for Asahi to say something.

What if he was, and he was getting bored because Asahi wasn’t putting any effort into deepening their relationship? What if Asahi was ruining his opportunity at building something more out of their little fleeting exchanges? What if he decided that Asahi was too nervous, too shy and timid, that he was just too boring to do anything but make coffee for once a day?

Asahi was shaking under the enormity of the unknowns.

The routine had been interrupted and Daichi had threatened him, however passively, and as Asahi pushed the door open he was clenching and unclenching the world’s clammiest hands with no idea of what he was going to do.

Of course there was no line either, no time for Asahi to gather his thoughts.

He was distinctly aware of how disheveled he probably looked. Only half of his hair was drawn back, the rest brushing his shoulders in a wild tangle. He hadn’t put much thought into his wardrobe that morning—just a T-shirt and jeans he wasn’t even sure coordinated. He was trembling and gnawing on his lower lip and probably looked like a giant wild man.

His mind was totally blanked out by panic. There wasn’t a singular coherent thought he could latch onto. Not even the normal idle chatter to soothe him, as the café was mostly empty.

The barista was wiping the bar with a rag. He looked up as Asahi stepped in front of the register. Their eyes met, that _smile_ crossed his lips, and it was all over.

Asahi _relaxed_. Just like he always did when he interacted with the barista. The painful tension in his chest and stomach, the racing thoughts, mostly (but not all) melted into pleasant fluttering: a tightness composed of excited anticipation rather than dread.

“Hello!” the barista said exuberantly. “I already got your regular heating up for you.”

Asahi froze, heat rising into his cheeks. The barista had been expecting him.

“Oh, thank you so much,” he said, fumbling to fish the money out of his wallet. _So thoughtful._

“Of course! You know, no pressure at all, but we aren’t busy right now so if you want you’re free to sit at the bar and chat,” the barista offered, gesturing at the row of open stools. “I realized I've seen you almost every day and I don't even know your name yet."

"Oh, um, sure," Asahi agreed, shuffling into a seat in the middle of the counter, fingers twisting up in themselves and shoulders hunched. "I'm, uh, Azumane Asahi."

"Nishinoya Yuu, but you can call me Noya," the barista returned, beaming. "Go ahead and take a seat. I'll bring your Rolling Thunder lightning quick!"

There it was. The hurdle Asahi had been fraught with fear over was cleared so easily, so naturally. Daichi would be pleased.

 _Nishinoya Yuu_.

Asahi rolled the name over silently in his mouth, enjoying the way the syllables felt on his tongue. At first, it didn’t seem like it fit him at all. Asahi would never compare this dazzling, radiant person to a darkening sky.

Then he reconsidered.

In a way, Noya was _exactly_ like the evening—a sky growing dimmer like the roaring in Asahi’s chest did, colors exploding everywhere in sight. A sun sinking into the western horizon, stretching out to glitz the earth. Really, those last dying rays of sunlight were the brightest of them all.

Asahi decided that the name actually fit Noya perfectly.

He watched him work. It occurred to him that from the short interactions and chance glances he’d had stolen, he'd never gotten a good look at anything but the barista’s hair, eyes, and smile.

Now that he was close and not actively panicking about talking to the barista—Nishinoya—Asahi allowed himself to take all of him in.

He wore the uniform black button-up and a pair of maroon skinny jeans that hugged him snugly enough for Asahi to appreciate a pair of toned thighs and an incredible ass. His nose was double-pierced with two silver hoops, ears decorated similarly, an industrial on his right side, and _oh my god how had Asahi never noticed how many tattoos this guy had_?

Nishinoya tended to only roll his button-up just enough to show off his bracelets. Today, his shirt was shoved up well past his elbows, revealing two full sleeves that stopped just short of his wrists. One was complete, colorful and vibrant. Asahi couldn’t get a good look at all of it, but it seemed to be made entirely out of flowers. The other was mainly unfilled lineart—and again, Asahi couldn’t see the entire piece but there was definitely a Totoro and the winding outline of Haku the Dragon.

Oh my _god_ , could this man get any cuter, any more attractive?

His heart picked up speed just from looking at the way they distorted ever so slightly over Nishinoya's muscular forearms as he bustled around behind the counter preparing Asahi's drink.

Asahi gulped. There wasn't an inch of him that seemed to be anything but gut-wrenchingly attractive. It wasn't fair, really.

"So, Azumane-san," Noya chatted over his shoulder, pumping syrup into a mug, "are you a student?"

“I am, yes,” Asahi answered, watching every move of Noya with intensity. “Are you?”

“Yeah! I’m going into engineering,” Noya said cheerfully.

“That’s…very impressive,” Asahi said.

He felt extremely self-conscious now. Noya was smart too. Even the word "engineering" put the fear of god in Asahi's heart; the thought of enduring that much rigor in academia making his heart squirm.

"It's not that impressive honestly," Noya assured him, moving to mix in the espresso and steamed milk with almost mindless skill. "I'm literally in my first year so for all I know I'll be failing out of it by semester."

Noya laughed at this, like it was an effortless thing to say. Asahi had nightmares about flunking out, waking up in a cold sweat with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He knew Noya was joking, but still. He seemed so casual about everything. As opposed to Asahi, who was extra with just about every single thing that happened ever.

Noya kept laughing and Asahi's palms began to sweat, his heart spinning in his chest. He watched Nishinoya's face, enraptured.

It was as if every muscle was invested as he laughed, the noise erupting from deep within his chest. The sound was beautiful, so genuine and warm, ringing through the coffee shop and swelling within Asahi's chest: a reverberating tenor so rich and full Asahi wanted to burn it into his ears forever. Beautiful.

Just like the rest of him, goddammit.

"What are you studying Azumane-san?" Noya asked, pouring in the last bits of steamed milk.

"I'm, uh, I'm studying history and social science," Asahi said with a half-hearted shrug. "Not nearly as impressive as engineering."

"What!" Noya exclaimed, passing the mug across the counter to Asahi. "Are you kidding me? That stuff requires an incredible amount of memorization! And like, you have to have a really good instinct for holistic thinking to put it all together you know? It's super impressive. Totally different type of smarts than engineering, you can't even compare them really."

Asahi's face went red-hot. “I’ve never really thought of it that way,” he said, eyes flicking up to Noya’s face.

Asahi’s hands shook slightly as he pulled the mug towards him, trying to hold Noya’s gaze as confidently as possible. Noya smiled, Asahi somehow blushed even more, and his eyes darted away from Noya’s face.

Noya turned to clean his equipment, and Asahi let out a sigh of relief. The way he soothed and distressed Asahi’s heart at the same time was too much. Like being hurtled head-first off a cliff into a warm pile of blankets.

Asahi pulled a jar of sugar towards him, dumping a generous amount into his mug for good measure. Over his shoulder, Noya continued to chat him up as he wiped down the espresso machine.

“Do you know what you want to do with history and social science, Azumane-san?”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Asahi admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And please, call me Asahi. But I’ve always kind of assumed I’d end up at a desk job. I guess…I’m just kind of studying what, um, what interests me.”

God that was lame. He sounded like potato with no ambition.

“That’s great!” Noya said, turning back to Asahi. “Studying what you want is probably the most important, I think. You don’t want to come out of college a billion dollars in debt with a degree you hate. Work can always come later on.”

“That’s…That’s, uh, a good point,” Asahi said. He was keenly aware of how stupid he must sound. How absolutely _atrocious_ he was at making small talk.

Far from looking put-off, however, Noya walked forward with interest. With no customers to attend to, he had decided to direct all of his focus onto Asahi. He leaned forward with his elbows on the bar, looking at Asahi like…like he was the only person in the room.

Not wanting to seem rude in his flustered silence, Asahi distracted himself by taking a huge sip of his drink.

And nearly spit it out all over the counter. He must have added way, way too much sugar in his distraction. It was so sweet Asahi's jaw hurt.

"Oh shoot, I'm sorry!" Noya apologized quickly, smacking himself in the forehead. "I totally forgot to tell you that I added an extra pump of vanilla to that. Crap. Sorry."

"No no don't worry about it," Asahi coughed, blushing. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"Here, I'll make you another one," Noya said, snatching up Asahi's mug. "I'll make the same thing if that's okay?"

"That's fine," Asahi nodded. "Did you mean to add an extra pump?"

 _Of course he meant to he's not an idiot that was a horrible question_.

"Yeah! I noticed that you always put sugar into it, and the vanilla syrup we have goes well with this drink so I figured I'd save you the trouble," Noya explained.

"Oh gosh that was so nice of you," Asahi said reaching for his wallet. "How much do I owe you for the extra—"

“Nothing, don't be ridiculous," Noya twittered from beside the espresso machine. "We don't charge for the sugar, I'm not charging you for basically giving you the same thing."

"Are you sure?" Asahi hesitated, little bubbles of guilt rising and popping painfully in his chest.

"Absolutely!"

"That's really nice of you," Asahi muttered sheepishly.

Noya shrugged with a grin. Asahi watched him mix his drink again, wondering what to say. He really wanted to insist on paying, but Noya’s act of kindness touched him so much he knew it would be rude not to accept. He’d offered so easily, and it was very clear to Asahi that he wasn’t even _trying_ to be kind. He just _was_.

Asahi’s hand found the back of his neck as the silence dragged on. There wasn’t a person in the world worse at small talk than Asahi: and there was so much pressure now he thought he might suffocate underneath it all. Whatever he and Noya were creating in that moment seemed so vital, seemed more crucial than anything he’d ever done. They were _talking_. They were actively conversing with one another, getting to know each other. Noya was seeing Asahi as himself for the first time.

How he handled this conversation was going to make the difference between Noya deciding he liked the person behind their two-minute conversations at the register, or whether Asahi’s complete social ineptitude was something he didn’t want anything to do with.

The likeliest option seemed to be the second. People generally started to give him odd looks after witnessing so much of Asahi’s stammering and silence and blushing. They became uncomfortable. They either made fun of him or dropped him like a hot potato.

Noya didn’t seem to be doing either of those things.

He let the silence hang in the air like it was nothing, humming to himself as he finished up Asahi’s drink. When he turned back, his smile hadn’t diminished at all. His eyes were still falling on Asahi like it was just the two of them, like no one else in the café existed.

He felt driven by that look to talk. He could just pick up where they left off.

“What about you?” he asked, taking his drink with a grateful bob of his head. “You’re going into engineering. Where do you see that taking you?”

Asahi’s lips twitched into a little smile at how eloquently he managed that question. Especially when Noya excitedly leaned forward on the bar again. He was so close Asahi could smell the sharp tang of his cologne.

God, he smelled so good. Coffee and Old Spice mixed together to create a cocktail that made Asahi want to taste him.

Oh lord, he shouldn’t be having that thought so soon.

“I’d really like to work on combustion engines,” Noya said excitedly. “If I could get a job making engines for planes, that would be the dream.”

“Wow. That’s…that’s very impressive.”

Noya snorted. The sound was different than his laugh but it was so carefree, so awkwardly perfect it delighted Asahi to hear it.

“I don’t know how impressive it is right now, I haven’t actually done anything yet,” he said lightly. “School’s never really been my thing. But I like things that blow up so I thought ‘why not work with combustion engines’. Turns out there aren’t as many explosives as you might think as far as I can tell. I might switch. Or flunk out. We’ll see what happens I guess.”

Noya flashed a huge grin and for some reason Asahi blushed. His fingers scratched the soft baby hairs on the back of his neck.

“Engines are still interesting as hell though,” Noya continued. “I didn’t really like theoretical sciences in school because like…I couldn’t see how it applies. But I’m in some more hands-on classes now that are putting a lot of that theory into practice and I’m starting to think it’s really cool.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Asahi said, drinking the now perfectly flavored drink—the steamed milk poured with a lacy delicacy Asahi was a little surprised Noya could manage.

“Me too. Ohp, be right back!” Noya said with a little wink as the entrance bell rang. “Don’t wander off without saying bye.”

He practically bounced his way down the bar to help a new customer. Asahi hadn’t planned on going anywhere but Noya’s comment made him glow.

He wasn’t getting bored by Asahi. He wasn’t turned off by the silence or the stammering or anything about the way Asahi held and expressed himself. He wanted Asahi to stay, to at least let him know if he was going to leave. He wanted Asahi there.

Asahi’s hand left his neck in favor of his mug, still trembling a little.

Noya returned in a flash, handing the customer their drink before returning to the bar.

“Where were we?” he asked.

“You were talking about your major,” Asahi said, drumming his fingers on the rim of his mug.

“Oh, right! Well, I don’t know how much else there is to that,” Noya said, and then he laughed that _laugh_ and dear Asahi was falling very hard and very fast. “Tell me more about _you_ Asahi.”

“Me? Um…I don’t think there’s much to say really,” Asahi blushed.

“Untrue,” Noya said, tilting his head to the side in the most adorable way possible. “I barely know anything at this point.”

“I... I… Um…” _Oh god what did he talk about?_

And there it was. The blankness. The utter lack of anything happening in his brain. The inability to formulate a sentence as his synapses fired randomly, like unsupervised children.

He felt himself grow steadily warmer until he thought his cheeks would actually start spewing molten lava. He was just sitting there, stupidly fidgeting with his mug and stammering. Noya was waiting for an answer but it just wouldn’t come out. He tried opening and closing his mouth to see if he could push through something, anything.

His eyes fell into his mug, as if the little pillows of foam would string across the surface of the drink and spell out something useful for him to say. When that didn’t happen, and the bubbles slowly trickled away one by one, Asahi started rubbing his neck again.

“Are you alright?”

Asahi’s eyes flicked up to Noya’s face. To Asahi’s bewilderment, Noya’s expression hadn’t changed much. Other than a tiny wrinkle of concern in the space between his eyebrows, he looked just as engaged, just as excited to talk to him. His voice was so gentle.

Asahi took a deep breath.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he finally said, running his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t usually talk about myself much. And I’m…generally just an awkward person.”

“You’re not awkward at all,” Noya assured him. Asahi almost laughed at the absurdity but Noya seemed serious? “I didn’t mean to fluster you or put you on the spot or anything. I can ask some questions if you want, that way I’m not expecting you to pull shit out of your ass. Or I can stop bothering you.”

Asahi blinked.

Noya thought _he_ was bothering Asahi?

“You’re not bothering me at all. I like talking to you,” Asahi said, hoping it wasn’t too early for him to say something like that. “Questions sound good.”

“Great!” Noya said, smacking the edge of the bar in his excitement. “Let’s see…”

Asahi wasn’t sure how long they sat there talking like that: Noya asking a question, Asahi answering to the best of his ability before parroting it back to him. He lost track of the time, or maybe he just stopped caring about how late it was getting, if he had anywhere to be.

They talked about everything.

They talked about their lives. How Asahi was enjoying living with his two practically married best friends, how Noya was dealing with the random roommates his new apartment had assigned. They talked about their families. They talked about their hobbies, their majors, their favorite movies and music and food.

Asahi tried to file every snippet of information away into permanent storage in his brain.

Noya had three sisters, and hated being the baby of the family. Noya and Asahi both played volleyball in high school, though they’d given it up after graduation. Noya liked to cook, especially curries or anything with a huge punch of flavor. Noya liked warm evenings spent in the park near his new apartment, hanging out with his best friend and eating soda-flavored popsicles. Noya pretty much only watched action movies and studio Ghibli (the inspiration for the minimalist tattoo), but he was starting to warm up to romantic comedies thanks to one of his roommates.

Then there were the things Asahi learned about Noya that didn’t necessarily come out of his mouth. He learned that Noya never seemed to stop moving; he was always bouncing or swaying or tapping his fingers. He learned that Noya was a good listener, and an even better talker.

That he was fine with filling up some of the silences that would normally have Asahi feeling flushed and sweaty. That he was fine letting some of the others linger for a while in the air.

He learned that Noya seemed to have absolutely no sense of shame whatsoever. He spoke and laughed loudly without batting an eye at the heads he turned. He liked to gesture when he spoke, flinging his arms and hands around without restraint.

At one point, he was telling Asahi a story about how he broke his nose in high school when he hit himself in the face with a frying pan. Asahi was _reeling_ because Noya was hilarious. Noya flung his arm open wide, knocking over an empty syrup container which promptly shattered, loudly, all over the floor.

While Asahi’s hand jumped to his mouth, cheeks growing rosy because he could feel the stares from the other patrons, Noya barely reacted other than a brief “oh shit”.

He cleaned the floors, still recounting his tale, as if nothing had happened.

No shame.

Asahi listened and watched, smiled and laughed and felt so many incredible emotions he completely lost track of time. He let his hand sit in his lap, grip his mug, smooth over the sleek wood of the counter.

“Hey, I think your phone’s been going off,” Noya said after who even knew how long, pointing at Asahi’s angrily vibrating mobile.

Asahi snatched it up and saw a litany of text messages from Daichi and Suga.

“Oh no.”

“Something bad happen?” Noya asked, leaning across the bar, close enough that his smell flooded Asahi’s nose again, dizzying him.

“No it’s just my roommates,” Asahi said. He looked at the clock on his phone and his heart stopped beating for a moment.

“Oh my god,” he muttered. “Oh my god it’s almost one in the afternoon.”

Three hours.

They’d been talking for nearly three hours.

“I promised Daichi and Suga I’d meet them for lunch at one, oh my god they’re going to kill me. Oh god I hope I didn’t freak them out too much…”

There were twenty-four unread messages and three missed calls.

Asahi smacked himself in the forehead, cursing himself for not being more careful. He was always careful. Time was one of those things that gave him a lot of anxiety. He was the person who would show up ten minutes early to an engagement and feel like he was late.

Scrolling frantically through the messages, Asahi tried to parse apart which ones needed to be answered the most urgently. God, he was an idiot. He was a horrible, horrible friend for worrying them so much. For being so careless.

 

[10:25] **Suga-Mama:** Just got out of study group  <3

[10:29] **Suga-Mama:** Are you at the café?

[10:30] **Suga-Mama:** I can come join you~

[10:42] **Suga-Mama:** Okay so I’m going to assume you’re at the café but talking to that delicious hunk of man so I won’t bother you~~

[11:04] **Suga-Mama:** Have fun!

[11:57] **Suga-Mama:** Don’t forget about lunch, okay???

[12:12] **Suga-Mama:** I’m hoping you’re getting these XD A little response would be nice so I know you haven’t had an arousal-induced heart attack from that barista

[12:22] **Suga-Mama:** Asaaaaaa please answer me I’m getting worried DX

[12:26] **Suga-Mama:** Asahi answer your phone :(

[12:31] **Suga-Mama:** Are you literally going to make me hunt your ass down at that café

[12:32] **Suga-Mama:** AZUMANE ASAHI ANSWER YOUR MOTHER

[12:35] **Suga-Mama:** You better be dead or you’re going to wish you were

[12:40] **Suga-Mama:** If you come to lunch without that boy’s name after this Daichi and I have agreed to evict you

[12:48] **Suga-Mama:** :( :( :( :( :( :(

 

Asahi swallowed so hard it almost got stuck on the way down. He felt sick even before opening Daichi’s stream of texts.

 

[10:03am] **Dadchi:** Don’t forget about the name. I’m dead serious. I’ll kick your ass out of my house.

[11:59] **Dadchi:** Suga says don’t forget about lunch

[12:24] **Dadchi:** Hey you’re worrying Suga, please text him back

[12:36] **Dadchi:** Asahi for real Suga’s super worried about you

[12:37] **Dadchi:** Okay wtf you literally always text back immediately we’re both worried do we need to come find you

[12:39] **Dadchi:** I really think Suga’s going to kill you. Like, he’s on the edge of murder rn.

[12:47] **Dadchi:** I don’t even think you should come to lunch anymore unless you want to meet an early grave

[12:49] **Dadchi:** Suga just Googled “when is it legal to kill your fuckwad best friend” you’re so dead man

[12:50] **Dadchi:** Like you are in so much fucking trouble

[12:52] **Dadchi:** RIP Azumane Asahi he lived the most un-chill life ever lived by a human being

 

Asahi didn’t even bother to text back. He was dialing Suga’s number on instinct, feeling that familiar sting in the corner of his eyes. He stood and bolted outside with a muttered “excuse me” to Noya.

The phone didn’t ring more than three times before a voice like a butcher knife stabbed through the line.

“Are you dead? You better be fucking calling me from beyond the grave Asahi I swear to god—”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry,” Asahi said, throat feeling tight. “I screwed up and I’m so sorry Suga. But I’m fine, I’m totally fine.”

“What the _hell_ happened, Asahi?” Suga growled. “I was so worried! The last time you took that long to text back you were being rushed into the emergency room to have an organ removed.”

Asahi’s stomach clenched at the memory of being sliced open to have his appendix taken out. It clenched even more at not only the anger but the worry he heard in Suga’s voice.

“I… I don’t have a good excuse. I lost track of time.”

“ _You_ lost track of time?”

“Yeah. I’m really sorry Suga, I really am. I know I usually text back right away…”

He wasn’t sure what else to say. There was a deep breath. A moment of silence. Asahi’s hand jumped to the back of his neck with a wince. He’d rubbed it so much that day, trying to keep his anxiety from escaping (out of the back of his neck apparently????) that the skin was a little tender and raw..

“Were you talking to the barista?” Suga asked after a pause, sounding a little calmer.

“Noya. Yes.”

“Hmm?”

“I was talking to the barista and I lost track of time, and his name is Nishinoya Yuu.”

Another pause, a crackling static, and a faint noise in the background that could have either been speech or random inane noises. He couldn’t be sure.

“ _Asahi_!” Suga eventually squealed so loudly Asahi jumped and jerked the receiver away from his ear. “Oh my god Asa I’m so proud of you! Daichi didn’t actually believe you’d—yes…yes he’s okay, he’s alive and—yes he did…Nishinoya Yuu.”

From somewhere in the background Asahi heard a familiar emotionless “woot” followed by a barking laugh. Then some more words he couldn’t make out.

“Okay, well I still might kill you for taking about fifteen years off my life,” Suga said but the edge was gone. “But first I’m going to need _every single detail_ of this conversation that almost ended me. Are you still coming to lunch?”

Asahi nodded vigorously, then he remembered that Suga couldn’t see him. “Yes, yes of course,” he said.

“Okay! Daichi and I have a table at that yakitori place you like.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect. And Asahi?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really proud of you.”

Asahi’s mouth was soft, almost curving into a smile from Suga’s warm compliment as he headed back into the café. Noya was still alone behind the counter—Kiyoko currently “on call” according to Noya, since the shop was incredibly slow for a Sunday.

Noya’s head shot up as Asahi walked back up to the counter. An incandescent smile spread across his lips, his face emitting its own light.

God, when was his heart not going to lurch in his chest when Noya looked at him like that?

“You okay? I’m glad to see your friends didn’t send an actual assassin for you.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Asahi assured him. “I need to go meet them for lunch, though. But…I…yeah.”

_I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye._

“I’m glad you came back in then!” Noya seemed to finish his thought effortlessly. “I actually didn’t want you to leave without—wait hold on, give me two seconds.”

Asahi looked on in confusion but stayed put. Noya darted under the counter, rummaging around for something. Asahi tried to peer over to see what he was doing, but then Noya popped up like a cork shot out of a wine bottle. He slapped a roll of blank receipt paper on the counter and scribbled something on it before tearing off a strip and handing it to Asahi.

“It’s my number,” Noya said with a grin. “I hope I’m not being pushy or anything but I’d really like to keep talking to you, like, outside of this place.”

Asahi’s face was boiling. He took the paper with a shaking hand, unable to meet Noya’s eyes. It didn’t matter much. He could feel the intensity of Noya’s gaze burning into his face.

“Thank you,” Asahi said, tucking the piece of paper safely into his wallet. “I can…I’ll text you mine.”

"That’s perfect! I'm gonna text you later tonight if that's okay," Noya said with a smile that looked almost hopeful. "I work a double so I'm here until four but I'll text you after that. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Asahi replied in relief. "Yes, I was... I wanted you to text me later. If that’s okay with you."

"It's _very_ okay," Noya beamed. Asahi smiled brightly back.

"Texting is... It's sometimes easier for me. I have time to think and process stuff if that makes sense."

"Absolutely, that definitely makes sense. I'll text you then? But you should go now so your friend doesn't straight up murder you. I'll text you, though. I promise I'll text you."

“Okay,” Asahi nodded, heading towards the door. “I’ll talk to you tonight then.”

“Tonight!” Noya practically cheered, waving enthusiastically. Asahi smiled and lifted a hand as he hurried out of the café.

Asahi walked as quickly as he could to the restaurant without breaking into a sprint. Though his thoughts were chasing each other wildly in his mind, there was something so calm and comforting resting in his chest.

The hand that normally bothered his neck reached up to grasp the folds of his shirt over his heart instead. He closed his fist and pressed hard, like he was trapping the feeling right there beneath his hand. It was a warmth so bright yet so soothing Asahi thought he held a small sun inside him.

He kept his fist right there as he half-jogged to the yakitori restaurant, hoping to hold on as long as he could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks [floral-fae](http://www.floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://www.skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	4. The Waiting Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once on the elevator leading to their ridiculously, unreasonably, pointlessly high apartment on the _goddamn twelfth floor_ , Asahi pulled out his phone and texted Noya.
> 
> [13:55] **Asah** i: Hey, it’s Asahi :)
> 
> “How are you like this?” Suga asked, peering over Asahi’s shoulder.
> 
> “Like what?”
> 
> “So confident over text message,” Suga asked. “No offense but I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you speak with the confidence of the smiley emoji.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little *** will henceforth represent a point-of-view change :)

Asahi arrived at the yakitori restaurant only fifteen minutes late. The restaurant was buzzing dully with scattered conversation, but it wasn’t exceptionally crowded. He spotted Daichi and Suga quickly at a table towards the front of the restaurant. They greeted him with two pairs of crossed arms and an arched brow that could support a city.

When he shuffled into his chair, it felt like sitting down with his parents after breaking curfew the night before. Piercing gazes, the inescapable sense that he’d done something wrong, two sets of squared shoulders creating an impenetrable wall across from Asahi. He felt like he was going to be sent to his room without supper.

Asahi’s right hand was on his neck, but it still stung, so he tangled it with his left in his lap.

“I’m really sorry,” he said before either of them had a chance to get a word out. “I didn’t mean to worry you two so much.”

Asahi’s eyes flicked up. Daichi’s face was rigid, hard and cold as a gravestone. Suga frowned with a perfectly shaped eyebrow curved high in disapproval. Asahi would have apologized more, would have felt significantly more guilty and maybe teared up a little; but Suga and Daichi’s eyes gave them both away, flickering playfully and tempering the mask of anger they both wore.

Asahi exhaled and let his hands fall limp against his thighs.

_Of course they aren’t actually angry, dumbass._

“How do you plan on murdering me?” he asked, just to be sure of the water in which he was treading. “Can you make it fast? Today’s been pretty emotional, I’m not sure I can handle a slow, painful death.”

Asahi smiled half-heartedly.

Daichi and Suga both burst out laughing—Suga with that incredible snorting of his and Daichi with his shamelessly booming guffaw. Asahi blanched from the stares he knew they were getting but it was fine. He’d learned a long time ago that Daichi and Suga were not quiet people. He’d made peace with the periodic discomfort it gave him.

“Sassahi back at it again,” Suga wheezed.

“You’re rubbing off on my innocent boy, Suga,” Daichi said, shaking his head.

“Your boy has always been far from innocent,” Suga said with a smirk. “Don’t you remember that time we found him in the club room sucking Yamaguchi’s—”

“Aaaaaaand we’re done now,” Asahi cut in, boiling and waving for his friends to quiet down. The last thing on the face of the planet he could deal with right now were his sexual escapades to be announced in the middle of a nice family establishment.

Daichi and Suga, of course, just laughed loudly again. Asahi knew for sure that there were people listening in now with how his friend’s voices were pealing through the restaurant. He ducked behind the wine menu, shrinking forward and hoping that the back of his chair would hide him from any onlookers.

“You two are so loud,” Asahi whined when they finally returned to a tolerable volume. He peeked out from behind the menu to glare at them, which did nothing of course.

“You’re just quiet,” Daichi corrected placing a hand on his stomach and taking a few deep breaths. Suga rubbed his jaw, his smile never falling away.

Asahi shook his head and resumed a more upright position.

There was still a little knot of guilt in his stomach from how much he was sure he’d upset them, though. “I am sorry, really. I know how worried I’d be, if it had been one of you.”

“It’s okay, we’re just happy you’re safe,” Daichi assured him.

Asahi managed to crack something similar to a smile.

Their food arrived, which finally settled his friends’ cackling. He took the silence as an opportunity to pull out his wallet and enter the number into his phone. He opened his messaging app, but couldn’t make his fingers type.

He’d send a text after getting something more substantial than espresso and flavoring syrup into his system, he decided.

“Soooooo,” Suga trilled, lacing his fingers together and giving Asahi a suggestive smirk. “I need every single detail.

Asahi allowed his shoulders to settle as he recounted his morning. He tried to breeze through it—to get past the little playful teases and the feeling that their intimate conversation might be picked up by another patron—but of course Suga and Daichi would have none of that.

“What did you two manage to talk about for so long?” Daichi asked, twirling a noodle around his fork.

“A little bit of everything I guess? You know, family, friends, classes, interests…that sort of thing.”

“You talked like that for…how long were you there?”

“Three hours,” Suga interjected helpfully, looking at Asahi like he’d just won a marathon. “You made small talk for _three hours_.”

 _Yes, but it didn’t_ feel _like three hours. It felt like thirty minutes._

“How are you feeling after that much chitchat?” Daichi asked. Suga bobbed his head in agreement as he began shoveling food into a wide-open mouth like a vacuum cleaner

Asahi, in turn, barely opened his mouth to slide a sliver of fish through his lips, chewing slowly and carefully on his lunch as well as his thoughts. How did he feel? He knew how he _should_ have felt, how he _normally_ would have felt.

He should have been exhausted. Even with people he enjoyed—with Daichi and Suga, for instance—he needed a significant amount of time going from one social situation to another. He needed to take a breath.

It was like exercising a muscle that never seemed to get any stronger, no matter how often Asahi flexed it. When walking into any group, he was a sickly twig man in a room full of bodybuilders. He’d discovered this a long time ago, and it was honestly fine, but it did make socializing particularly difficult. Not that he’d tried that hard lately.

Right now, right after talking for so long, he didn’t feel that way. A blip of surprise pinged in Asahi’s chest.

He felt…not rejuvenated exactly, but at least not exhausted. Strangely happy about having talked to Noya for such a long time.

“A little tired, but really content,” Asahi finally said. “I don’t think I could do it again right now, but I feel really happy now that I did.”

Daichi’s smile couldn’t have stretched wider across his face. “That’s great, Asahi. Really, really great.”

“How waf he wif your ansiety?” Suga garbled through a mouthful of food.

“Suga…” Daichi glared, wrinkling his nose. Suga returned the look, before pointedly ignoring his partner in favor of Asahi.  

“He was really good. He really likes to talk and he’s super good at it, but he never seemed to care if I was like…matching that energy? I don’t know how to describe it.”

Asahi took another bite of his fish, feeling something like a fluffy, comforting cloud blooming in his chest.

“He’s so…bright. And warm,” Asahi said. “He’s so shameless about everything. He shattered a bottle of syrup without flinching. I would have quit and never come back if that happened to me.”

“He sounds really wonderful, Asahi,” Daichi beamed.

Suga nodded vigorously, cheeks swollen like a chipmunk’s with far too much food.

“I think so,” Asahi said hopefully. “He seemed so…so comfortable with me. With how I am. How I talk or…don’t talk. He didn’t seem to mind at all. It was…weird. Good, but weird.”

“He must have some experience with it. Or he’s just a very understanding person,” Daichi surmised. He slurped up the last of his noodles with a pleasantly relaxed expression, one that eased Asahi when he wore it.

“Bowf,” Suga mumbled through a full mouth.

“Oh my god, chew your food, Sugawara,” Daichi snapped.

Suga made direct eye contact, swallowed slowly, and wiggled his eyebrows. “So stern. I thought surnames were reserved for the bedroom, Sawamura. Though I wouldn’t be opposed to significantly lowering this establishment’s health rating…”

“Suga!” Daichi and Asahi snapped in unison. Suga just giggled cutely and really, how could either of them be truly angry when his eyes crinkled up like that when he laughed?

They left not long after that. Suga linked elbows with Daichi, leaning heavily on his boyfriend and humming tunelessly into the wonderfully temperate air.

It was quiet, Suga’s brain fogged up from eating too much, Daichi from…being Daichi? And Asahi from being lost in his thoughts.

He thought about Noya, of course, and the way he held himself with other people. Every person he talked to held his entire attention in that moment. He smiled with abandon, held conversation without pause, greeted every person with the respect of a child but the ease of an old friend. He had the interpersonal intelligence of a diplomat. Extremely good with people.

Extremely good with Asahi.

But there was something a little different about the way he was with Asahi. Or maybe Asahi just wished there was something different. Every time a new customer came in, or when Noya had to grind new beans or restock the syrup, he would snap right back to Asahi the moment he finished—that smile he wore stretching just a bit wider just for him.

He hoped, anyway. He really hoped his crush wasn’t distorting reality, making it seem like Noya liked him too.

He really, really wanted Noya to like him.

There was really only one way to find out if he did.

Once on the elevator leading to their ridiculously, unreasonably, pointlessly high apartment on the goddamn _twelfth floor_ , Asahi pulled out his phone and texted Noya.

[13:55] **Asahi:** Hey, it’s Asahi :)

“How are you like this?” Suga asked, peering over Asahi’s shoulder.

“Like what?”

“So confident over text message,” Suga asked. “No offense but I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you speak with the confidence of the smiley emoji.”

Asahi shrugged. “I can think about what I’m going to say.”

Suga kept saying something about Asahi needing to bring some of that confidence into his verbal communication (what was new though), but Asahi couldn’t keep his eyes off his phone. There was a thought—one Asahi recognized as irrational but entertained anyway—that if he just glared hard enough, a message from Noya would magically appear.

He stared for about twenty seconds before giving up.

Asahi reminded himself that it wasn’t even two yet. It would be silly, and irresponsible, for Noya to text him while he was at work. So he shoved his phone away with a dejected sigh and tried to pay attention to whatever Suga was chittering away about.

Asahi couldn't help but wait in jittery anticipation for the rest of the afternoon. He wondered what Noya would be like in the digital realm, if his enormous personality would translate well over text, what sort of style he had and if Asahi would be able to mesh with it. Suga and Daichi both noted how happy he looked, Daichi teasing that Asahi kept jumping at the slightest sound. Asahi just scowled at him.

Two o’clock came and went without a single text. That was fine, though, because Noya would likely need time to go home and decompress after work.

And take a shower, and maybe eat, which is why three o’clock hit without a word as well.

Asahi took a shower too, to distract himself. He played some music, listening without paying much attention as he tried to drag it out as long as he could. He stood under the water for almost five full minutes, long after his conditioner had poured down the drain.

Then it was four o'clock, and Asahi's phone was now settled in his lap as he and his best friends watched the actual original _Voltron_ series. He was trying not to open his messaging app every five minutes just in case it was his insistence that was keeping Noya’s messages at bay. He tried to pay attention to the show.

"Did they have humans drawing this?" Suga asked from where he was tucked close to Daichi’s chest. "Like, have these artists ever seen a living person?"

"Oh shut up, they had no budget back then, they did what they could," Daichi tsked.

Suga just rolled his eyes.

Four o'clock went. Asahi forced down the bile in his throat because Noya had said that _night_. It wasn't even evening yet, so there was no need to worry about it. Not that it stopped him from doing so.

It hit five o'clock and Asahi was rubbing the back of his neck compulsively. He picked away at the existing scabs but he couldn’t stop. Suga glanced over at him from where he was comfortably tucked under Daichi's arm and offered a reassuring smile.

"He's probably taking a nap or resting after that double," Suga said confidently. "Give him some time."

Asahi tried to smile but a weight sat too heavy in his gut for it to come across genuinely. A weight that got heavier every minute.

Suga tugged on his wrist around five thirty, interlacing their fingers to keep Asahi from rubbing all of the hair from his neck. “We need to get you a new habit.”

Asahi just grunted.

By the time it hit six he wanted to crawl under his blankets and vanish off the planet.

"It's definitely night," he mumbled hopelessly, mostly to himself. "It's night and he hasn't... Hasn't texted."

"You're overthinking Asahi," Daichi said. Asahi glared at him because _of course_ he was overthinking but that didn't mean he could stop. "Just... It's only been a few hours. Maybe something came up. Give him time, he'll text you."

Asahi wasn't convinced. Especially when they were nine episodes deep in _Voltron_ and it was nearing seven at night.

Since Suga had stolen his hand, Asahi's teeth worried his lower lip raw. His eyes were on the screen but he wasn't watching at all. Suga placed his free hand on Asahi's thigh, squeezing gently. "It's not that late yet."

Daichi's eyes slid to Asahi's face with a slight frown.

"I'm gonna make some dinner," he announced, getting resolutely to his feet.

Asahi was trying not to actually break down. He was trying to focus on the admittedly atrocious animation of the show instead of the phone that had been black for hours.

Suga snuggled up beside him, tucking his head against Asahi’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything, just squeezed Asahi’s arm. Asahi leaned into the touch, the lithe but strong fingers pressing reassuringly into his skin.

He tried really, really hard not to think.

Daichi was finished with dinner before eight. It had been six hours since anything had hit Asahi’s stomach but he wasn’t even remotely hungry. He twirled the noodles around his plate and kept his jaw clenched tight.

No tears. Not over someone he’d literally just met.

Suga and Daichi tried to make light conversation, but their voices passed through the air like they were underwater—distorted, indiscernible.

Asahi stared at his phone and willed it to come to life.

It didn’t.

Asahi helped Daichi clean up after dinner in numb silence. He was alternating between gut-wrenching disappointment and gloomy resignation. Daichi didn’t try to reassure him anymore, just patted him between the shoulders before slipping off to bed with Suga.

Not feeling even remotely tired, Asahi plopped down on the sofa after the last of the dishes were done. He tried his hardest to melt into the cushions. Fabric didn’t think. It didn’t feel. It didn’t get heartbroken. Heartbroken after nothing happened for him to even be heartbroken about.

The TV flashed in front of Asahi’s eyes but he wasn’t watching. There were too many thoughts scrambling around in his head.

There were so many reasons why Noya hadn’t texted him, even though it was after ten o’clock when Asahi clicked his notification-less phone open again. He ran through them in his head even though he didn’t want to. He wanted to sleep and try to forget today—maybe the past two weeks—ever happened.

He thought about how he must have misunderstood Noya. Noya must have been tolerating him during their conversation, wearing that same eager smile he showed every other person. He could have given Asahi the wrong number to reject him without hurting his feelings. He could have decided after Asahi left that he just wasn’t worth the trouble. He could have forgotten about Asahi altogether, decided he didn’t deserve his time.

The time was past eleven.

His eyes were fluttering a little as he hovered on the brink of sleep when he felt his phone vibrate against his leg.

Hope and doubt hit him in the chest so hard he was winded for a second, choking on his own heartbeat. He scrambled to open his phone, which flashed a notification from his messenger. He held his breath when he tapped on the icon, ready to actually die if it wasn’t Noya.

It was.

Asahi almost yelped in relief. His phone vibrated a few more times before he got a chance to read the first message, exploding in a sequence of texts from Noya. He waited until it seemed like Noya was done before reading.

[23:02] **Noya:** So.

[23:02] **Noya:** I understand if you never ever want to talk to me again

[23:02] **Noya:** And I can't even explain how absolutely fucking sorry I am but I want to explain myself

[23:02] **Noya:** You don't even have to respond like you can delete these but I have to explain

[23:02] **Noya:** How many times can I say the word explain???

[23:02] **Noya:** Oh my god why did I say that I’m so sorry

[23:03] **Noya:** I’m so so sorry I’m just

[23:03] **Noya:** I can't even imagine how freaked out you've been and I'm sorry like seriously

Asahi could have laughed out loud. He did, actually, but it was more of a giggle. He’d been suffering all night over a dumb boy and that was a little ridiculous, but now Asahi didn’t care because Noya was _texting_ him. They were talking outside of the café. He could have ascended to heaven with happiness.

[23:03] **Asahi:** It’s fine :)

[23:03] **Asahi:** What happened?

[23:04] **Noya:** Oh god you're talking to me I wasn’t expecting a response after ghosting you like that

[23:04] **Noya:** I wanted to text you the second I got off I really did

[23:04] **Noya:** But I forgot my fucking phone was playing music over the sound system so it died before my shift ended

[23:05] **Noya:** I was absolutely going to text you when I got home but there was a fight in my apartment that was definitely about to get physical when I got there

[23:05] **Noya:** We got them apart and stuff and they apologized to each other and shit

[23:06] **Noya:** But my roommates had us go out for dinner and I just... I literally forgot that it wasn't in my pocket because that's where I always have it. Like I just straight up forgot I plugged it in because I'm a goddamn space cadet sometimes :/

[23:07] **Noya:** I didn't realize until we were already out… Because we walked past Beans and I was about to text you but I couldn't because, you know, I didn't have it :( :( and no matter how hard I tried to just materialize it out of thin air I couldn't obv

[23:07] **Noya:** I wanted to run home to grab it but I kinda felt obligated to finish up dinner with my new roommies to make a good impression and stuff

[23:07] **Noya:** And to make sure they didn’t try to kill each other again (they didn’t)

[23:07] **Noya:** They made us stay out /so late/, so I honest to god just got home and I texted the second I walked into my apartment

[23:08] **Noya:** I literally threw my body through the door DX

[23:08] **Noya:** God this all sounds so fucking dumb and fake but I promise that's what happened

[23:09] **Noya:** I wanted to text you so bad but I just couldn't

[23:10] **Noya:** So yeah that's my shitty excuse if you never talk to me again I understand

[23:10] **Asahi:** Are you okay??

[23:10] **Noya:**?????????

[23:10] **Asahi:** From the fight. Did you get hurt or anything? :O

[23:11] **Noya:** I mean

[23:11] **Noya:** I think one of them bruised my ribs with his elbow but I'm fine

[23:12] **Asahi:** That's good, I'm really glad you're okay :)

[23:12] **Asahi:** I believe you by the way. The story and everything

[23:12] **Asahi:** I'm just glad you texted me :)

[23:13] **Noya:** You

[23:13] **Noya:** Oh my god

[23:14] **Noya:** You're way too forgiving omg :O :O :O

[23:15] **Asahi:** No it's okay it isn't a big deal

[23:16] **Asahi:** You said you'd text tonight and it's tonight. You haven't done anything wrong

[23:17] **Noya:** I know but I made it seem like I'd text you right after work

[23:17] **Noya:** And like I know I’d be hella nervous and pissed if someone did that to me

[23:18] **Noya:** Gah! I'm so sorry I really am

[23:19] **Asahi:** It's really okay :)

[23:19] **Asahi:** You don't need to be sorry I'm glad we're texting now

[23:20] **Asahi:** I'm sorry you had a rough night

[23:21] **Noya:** I'm glad we're texting too :) :) :) it's been on my mind since you left

[23:21] **Noya:** That's super weird and creepy I'm sorry fuck

[23:22] **Noya:** I just loved talking to you and I wanted to keep doing that

[23:22] **Noya:** I'm nervous I'm sorry

[23:23] **Asahi:** Please don't be sorry. It's been on my mind too

[23:23] **Asahi:** I liked talking to you too. I normally hate small talk

[23:24] **Asahi:** You make it enjoyable though

[23:24] **Asahi:** Also you don’t need to apologize for being nervous, you’ve seen how I am in person XD

[23:24] **Noya:** :D:D:D:D

[23:25] **Noya:** Oh my god that makes me so happy, so so happy!!!!

[23:25] **Noya:** I’m so glad!!! People tell me I can be annoying XD

[23:26] **Noya:** I’m stoked I didn’t annoy you, especially after getting you in trouble with your friends

[23:27] **Asahi:** Well, people usually say I can be too awkward so

[23:28] **Asahi:** They were fine haha

[23:29] **Noya:** I guess we might be able to agree that people can be really fucking stupid sometimes then :/ :/ :/

[23:29] **Noya:** I wouldn’t say you’re awkward at all!!!

[23:30] **Asahi:** Really???

[23:30] **Noya:** Yes, really!!! :D

[23:31] **Asahi:** You know who you’re talking to, right?

[23:31] **Asahi:** Asahi? Azumane Asahi from the coffee shop?

[23:31] **Asahi:** The one sitting at the bar too nervous to hold eye contact for more than about three seconds???

[23:33] **Noya:** And you know who you’re talking to, right?

[23:33] **Noya:** Noya? Nishinoya Yuu from the coffee shop?

[23:33] **Noya:** The one so chatty he couldn’t shut his big stupid mouth up for more than about three seconds?

[23:34] **Asahi:** That wasn’t at all annoying. I liked talking to you

[23:35] **Noya:** And you weren’t at all awkward :)

[23:35] **Noya:** Well okay, a little, but I didn’t even really think about it

[23:35] **Noya:** I’ve had customers way, waaayyyyyyy more awkward than you.

[23:36] **Asahi:** You have not -_-

[23:36] **Noya:** Absolutely have too!!!

[23:37] **Asahi:** I’m pretty sure I was the one who trademarked awkward

[23:38] **Asahi:** Azumane Awkward™ Asahi

[23:38] **Noya:** Well then I’ve met people who were Awkward©®

[23:38] **Asahi:** XD XD

[23:39] **Asahi:** I have to hear about these people

[23:39] **Asahi:** Challenge them to a duel. I must protect my reigning title as Awkward in Chief

[23:40] **Noya:** Oh my godddddd Asahi XD

[23:40] **Noya:** You’re hilarious omg

[23:41] **Noya:** I see what you mean by being more relaxed over message. You’re an internal processor, aren’t you?

[23:42] **Asahi:** Yes very lol

[23:42] **Asahi:** It gets worse when I’m anxious

[23:43] **Noya:** Were you anxious today??? :O

[23:43] **Asahi:** I’m literally always anxious lol

[23:43] **Asahi:** I can just hide it better over message because I have more time to think

[23:44] **Noya:** Hmmmm well I don’t mind waiting in person!!! :D Feel free to always take as much time as you need

[23:44] **Noya:** If you don’t mind that sometimes I might keep talking XD

[23:45] **Asahi:** Lol I think I can live with that

[23:46] **Asahi:** I’m still really curious about these people who have someone managed to be more awkward than I am

[23:48] **Noya:** Oh my god I have some stories

[23:49] **Noya:** A lot from my old job. I worked as a barista in high school too sooooooooo lots of really interesting people lollll

[23:50] **Noya:** But not right now I’m fucking exhausted I’m about to slip into a coma I think XD

[23:50] **Asahi:** Oh god please don’t do that o_O

[23:51] **Noya:** Lol no promises

[23:52] **Noya:** This might be dumb to ask but will you be stopping by tomorrow? I work from 12-4 and I’d be happy to share all of my fabulous Awkward©® Customer stories with you

[23:53] **Asahi:** Haha yes I’ll probably drop in around 2 if that’s okay

[23:53] **Noya:** Perfect :D

[23:54] **Noya:** I’m going to sleep for about 30 hours now -_-zzzzz

[23:54] **Asahi:** Please be careful

[23:55] **Noya:** :) See you tomorrow. Night!!! :D

[23:55] **Asahi:** :) Night

Asahi wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry or vomit or cheer or maybe a combination of all three (hopefully not at once). His stomach was surging, his heart exploding in a shower of joy.

Noya had texted him. He’d said he would, but then he actually _had_. Asahi had taken this chance to go out of his way to befriend someone and they’d reciprocated and he seemed to genuinely enjoy Asahi’s company? It was bizarre, something that hadn’t happened for him in quite some time, but it felt wonderful.

He wondered what drew Noya—the human embodiment of a firework—to him—the human embodiment of anxiety and shame.

Asahi wanted to go to his bed after all of this, but his body and mind were completely useless to him now that the adrenaline of seeing Noya’s name on his phone screen for the first time had worn off. Instead, he grabbed the blanket from the back of their couch and made himself into a partially-functioning burrito. With the TV still running through _Voltron_ , Asahi closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

Sleep never came easy, but that night the thought of seeing Noya again the next day—talking to him and enjoying himself—helped him soothe himself. It was that and the faint, mediocre sounds effects of _Voltron_ from the TV that ending up knocking him out cold.

Not before he thought about Noya and all of the things they still had to learn about each other. All of the small talk they still had to do.

***

Noya was curled up into a ball on his bed, scrolling through the messages just to read them one more time before drifting off to sleep. Exhaustion tugged aggressively at his sore eyes but he needed to read them just one more time before bed. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

His mouth _hurt_ really badly from smiling, but he couldn’t stop.

He hadn’t expected Asahi to want anything to do with him. Yet here he was, talking to Noya, joking and being friendly and promising that he wanted to see Noya again.

Why on earth did he want to see Noya again?

He was saved the trouble of thinking too hard about it by a rhythmic succession of knocks on his door.

“Come in!” Noya invited, sitting up against his headboard.

The door creaked open, revealing a sleepy but grinning giant bulky man child with two-toned hair.

"Hey, what's up? Come on in," Noya invited, patting the foot of the bed.

Bokuto flopped down at Noya's feet. He was still grinning but looked almost as tired as Noya felt. His carefully styled hair stuck up in all directions, and his eyes were bloodshot and droopy.

“I know it’s late as fuck but I couldn’t sleep,” Bokuto said. “I wanted to apologize again for being an ass and just…totally losing my shit and then making you late for texting that guy and just…really being an overall dick.”

“Hey, dude, it’s okay. It really is. You don’t need to apologize anymore,” Noya assured with a sleepy smile. Bokuto had spent a lot of time apologizing once he’d found out about Noya’s texting problem—which wasn’t until their night was nearly over, when Kuroo had observed that Noya kept checking his watch.

But Noya wasn’t mad. Well, not anymore, at least. He’d been pretty pissed at dinner but mostly with himself.

“It was my dumb fault for forgetting my phone in the first place.”

“Yeah,” Bokuto nodded, looking at least a little reassured. “Yeah, okay. I just wanted to make sure we’re cool.”

“Totally. We’re fine, though, really. Everyone can be stupid sometimes. I don’t think anyone’s really mad anymore.”

“Oikawa probably is,” Bokuto frowned. “That guy seems like someone who takes a grudge to the grave.”

Noya snorted. “Probably is. I guess you’ll just have to be careful not to eat anyone’s shit again.”

“Who gets _that pissed_ over milk bread though, seriously?” Bokuto groaned, leaning back on his hands and staring at the ceiling.

“Iwa did make it for him, to be fair. And they don’t get to see each other much,” Noya pointed out.

“Yeah I guess. I just don’t know what Iwa sees in that guy.”

“He does kind of seem like a prick,” Noya agreed. “But I dunno. They seem happy. We should just be grateful we don’t have to date him.”

Bokuto nodded, screwing up his face like he was thinking deeply. Noya’s eyes were sliding shut, and he felt like he might doze off right there against the stiff wood of his headboard.

“Must be fantastic in the sack,” Bokuto finally decided.

Noya cracked his eyes open. Bokuto was still staring at the ceiling, looking completely serious. Noya laughed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Oh my god, Bokuto.”

“It’s the only explanation.”

“Yeah,” Noya chuckled. “The only reason Iwa’s been dating him for like four years now is because he’s a great lay.”

Bokuto barked out a laugh. He turned back to Noya, head falling to the side and reminding Noya distinctly of a very curious owl. “Did he end up texting you back? That guy from your work?”

“He did,” Noya said, mouth stretching into a smile that _fucking hurt_ but that he couldn’t stop from spreading. “He’s gonna come in tomorrow again.”

“That’s awesome!” Bokuto cheered, beaming back at Noya. “Thank god. I mean, from what you’ve said he seems super interested but still I’m so happy for you. Are you gonna ask him out?”

“I’m not sure,” Noya admitted with a little shrug. “I don’t know if he’s interested like  _that_ you know? He’s so nervous and flustered it’s hard to get a good read on if he’s flirting. It’s so fucking cute, though. I’d be more than happy just to be his friend.”

“Makes sense,” Bokuto nodded. He raised his arms up towards the ceiling, yawning wide. “I’m so tired oh my god. Sorry to keep you up, man. I’m gonna go to bed now, though. Thanks for talking.” Bokuto smiled and got to his feet, stretching his whole body and cracking at least five of his joints.

“It’s fine. Thanks for checking in. Get some sleep and try not to fight anyone again. Not tonight anyway,” Noya smirked, shuffling back down under his comforter.

“I’ll try. Night, Noya! Thanks for being awesome,” Bokuto said, ambling sleepily towards the door.

“Night, Bo. You too.”

The door clicked shut and Noya’s eyes fell closed almost immediately.

The last passive thought that flickered into his mind before he fell unconscious was looking into a pair of the gentlest brown eyes he’d ever seen and thinking,

 _I’m so fucked_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [floral-fae](floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	5. Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you_  
>  _Yes, there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you_  
>     
> Not wanting to stare too much, Asahi looked down into his mug. He liked looking at the different patterns they drew into the steamed milk. Each barista had their own signature; Kiyoko made elegant floral and lace patterns, Noya typically catered to the particular drink (Rolling Thunder came with a lightning bolt and sometimes a storm cloud), and the redhead…tried his best. He’d made a somewhat discernable leaf-shape the other day, so he was making progress.
> 
> But Asahi’s drink didn’t have a lightning bolt this time. It had a heart. A very simple, white heart, swirling out in fading ringlets into the caramel-colored foam around it.
> 
> Asahi furrowed his brow. This was something much more similar to Kiyoko’s style, but he’d seen Noya pour the milk into this drink so what…
> 
> Oh.
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS but on the plus side it's long AF so that's good right???
> 
> Also fun fact Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop was the original title of this fic. It was inspired by [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erywPdFfORE) and I highly recommend you listen to it while you read this because the lyrics are woven throughout :)

 Day 1

_I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you_

 

Beans felt somehow different the day after Asahi and Noya’s messaging fiasco. Not because of the fiasco. Because of the messaging. Because Noya had texted him and complimented him and then asked specifically if he was going to come in.

Because he was wanted there.

There were quite a few people in line when Asahi arrived. As he took his place in the queue as per usual, he was still aware of how full the café was, still slightly overstimulated by the din of conversation and the lighting and the fidgeting of people in their seats. The difference was that none of this was overwhelming. None of this made him feel like he needed to escape or cave in on himself or disappear. It was almost like background noise—little flickers of anxiety buzzing in the periphery of his mind.

The difference was that instead of dancing around the room and taking in every single detail of his surroundings, Asahi’s eyes immediately fell on Noya. He was busily preparing drinks with the redhead bouncing around him and a sandy-haired barista at the register.  

Asahi watched with a humored smile quirking his lips as the redhead followed Noya, obviously trying to be helpful but often falling victim to Noya’s elbows or feet. Noya danced around him expertly, not spilling a single drop of anyone’s drinks. Asahi chuckled at their little tango, impressed that Noya was able to dodge the redhead’s hyperactive zigzagging.

The redhead had been working there at least as long as Asahi had been coming to the café, but the learning curve seemed to be fairly…steep.  

It was wonderful to watch, though, because Noya was so patient with him. He didn’t hesitate to repeat the same instructions over and over until the redhead got them right, allowing him to twitter around behind him during the rush and pass out the drinks, gently guiding him. Their energy seemed to vibe excellently together, Noya beaming and laughing as the redhead chittered away.  

Asahi was about two people away from the counter when Noya finally spotted him. There was the skip of his heart as their eyes met, the flush rising from his chest to his cheeks, the sheepish smile he couldn’t and didn’t want to stop.  

“Asahi!” Noya called with a wave. “Come over here!”

Asahi apologized to the people around him as he stepped out of the line. Noya gestured at an empty stool at the bar between a middle-aged man reading a newspaper and two college-age students buried in their computers.

“I’m giving you my shift drink,” Noya said as Asahi settled into his seat. “It’ll be ready in just a minute!”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Asahi said, hand creeping up to his neck as the blush in his cheeks deepened.  

“Of course! I never use it anyway,” Noya called over his shoulder.  

Asahi mumbled another “thank-you” but it was absorbed by the dull roar of activity in the café. He would probably have protested more against the mindlessly kind gesture, except that Noya was beaming so widely his eyes were scrunched up into the most adorable crescents so instead he just offered another shy smile.  

Noya slid his mug across the table with an exaggerated wink. “I’ll be right there; the rush should be dying down. Don’t go anywhere!”

Asahi hadn’t planned on leaving his stool for quite some time, but it was wonderful to hear Noya ask for him to stay.

Not wanting to stare too much, Asahi looked down into his mug. He liked looking at the different patterns they drew into the steamed milk. Each barista had their own signature; Kiyoko made elegant floral and lace patterns, Noya typically catered to the particular drink (Rolling Thunder came with a lightning bolt and sometimes a storm cloud), and the redhead…tried his best. He’d made a somewhat discernable leaf-shape the other day, so he was making progress.

But Asahi’s drink didn’t have a lightning bolt this time. It had a heart. A very simple, white heart, swirling out in fading ringlets into the caramel-colored foam around it.

Asahi furrowed his brow. This was something much more similar to Kiyoko’s style, but he’d _seen_ Noya pour the milk into this drink so what…

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Asahi’s face had never gotten _that_ red _that_ quickly.

“Sorry about that!” Noya chirped, and Asahi nearly jumped out of his skin. “Shirabu said we're slow enough that I can bother you now though.”

“You never bother me,” Asahi said without thinking or realizing that those words might be super awkward for someone he literally just started talking to.

Thankfully, Noya just beamed and leaned forward with his elbows on the bar. God, his smile was beautiful, and his eyes were beautiful and everything about him was just so beautiful.

“That’s a relief,” Noya replied cheerily. “Because I thought of a few more questions if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Asahi smiled, settling a little more easily into his seat.

“Awesome!” Noya cheered. “Okay, so I was wondering...”

They picked up their conversation just as they’d left it the day before: bouncing questions back and forth, getting to know each other, telling jokes, generally just hanging out. Asahi let his drink cool for too long because every time he looked down at the heart inscribed in the foam, he felt a shock of warmth flood his system. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was Noya’s way of flirting with him or if it was a show of their growing friendship, and he was far too nervous to ask.

It wasn’t the _why_ that felt important anyway. Regardless of the intent, it was a sign of affection, and it meant more to Asahi than he could articulate. He didn’t need find out what had prompted it.

Asahi only stayed for an hour or so before Suga was calling him to grab groceries before heading back to the apartment. He would have lamented the lack of time (but then, no time seemed like quite enough time when it was with Noya) if it wasn’t for the way he was still glowing from looking at that little white heart swirling at the top of his drink.

And the text Noya sent later that evening.

 

[17:58] **Noya:** Omg do you want to hear a story from after you left today

[17:59] **Asahi:** Ooooo yes :)

[17:59] **Noya:** Lol so we mostly get university students here, not a whole lot people over the age of 25 you know

[18:00] **Noya:** But there's this guy who comes in, I think he's about 40 or something and he's like… dear god he's rude

[18:01] **Asahi:** Oh no, what does he do?

[18:02] **Noya:** Well he talks the fuck down to Kiyoko which always pisses me off because she's the smartest person ever like way smarter than his crusty middle-aged ass

[18:03] **Noya:** And he's had us remake drinks that are perfectly fine just because

[18:03] **Noya:** I literally hate this man Asahi I swear XD

[18:04] **Asahi:** I’m sorry :(

[18:05] **Noya:** It’s so fine :)

[18:06] **Noya:** But today he came in and he was in a Mood™ let me tell you

[18:06] **Noya:** This man was out for blood today

[18:06] **Asahi:** Oh dear :/ What happened?

[18:07] **Noya:** He fucking

[18:09] **Noya:** Comes in and orders his usual. Which is FINE, like completely fine, except then when we give it to him he hands it back and is like “this isn’t what I ordered”

[18:10] **Noya:** And I was like yes???? it is????

[18:10] **Noya:** But he was like “no I ordered my usual” which is an iced chai like super easy to make and I was like “I’m sorry but that’s what I gave you” and he was like “yeah that’s the problem”

[18:11] **Noya:** And I’m like “are you speaking Japanese like who are you what are you saying” and he was like “my regular is always made by Shimizu-san” (that’s Kiyoko)

[18:11] **Noya:** THIS

[18:12] **Noya:** CRUMBLY OLD HERB WAS HITTING ON KIYOKO NOT 5 MINUTES AFTER SAYING THAT IT WAS “GOOD SHE WAS WORKING IN FOOD BECAUSE WOMEN HAVE FORGOTTEN THEIR PLACE IN THE KITCHEN”

[18:13] **Noya:** I had to go into the back and scream into a trash bag

[18:14] **Asahi:** Oh my god :( :( :(

[18:14] **Asahi:** Was Kiyoko-san okay?

[18:15] **Noya:** Yes she is literally an angel she went right the fuck up to him and was like “I’m flattered you like it that much, my girlfriend says I make the best chai as well”

[18:16] **Asahi:** Omg!!!!

[18:16] **Noya:** I WAS SHOOK

[18:16] **Noya:** HE WAS SHOOK

[18:16] **Noya:** EVERYONE WAS FUCKING SHOOK

[18:17] **Noya:** It was amazing I’ve never been so inspired

[18:17] **Asahi:** That is amazing omg

[18:18] **Noya:** I knowwwww right???

[18:19] **Noya:** Ugh okay well I gotta go make dinner I’ll see you tomorrow?

[18:19] **Asahi:** Yes :)

[18:20] **Asahi:** See you tomorrow :)

 

***

Day 2

_Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you._

 

Noya wasn’t sure whether or not Asahi had picked up on the heart in his last drink, because he hadn’t really said anything about it. He’d definitely been blushing as he looked down into his mug after Noya gave it to him, but that could have been for any number of reasons. Asahi blushed so frequently it was a little difficult for Noya to pin down the exact reason behind the coloring in his cheeks at any given moment.

Which was honestly perfectly fine with Noya. Asahi was probably the most adorable person he’d ever met so it didn’t really matter why he was blushing as long as he was _also_ smiling. Or at least not frowning.  

Regardless, Noya tried again the next day. He was trying to gage Asahi's reaction, to see if making a move eventually would be a good idea.

Not that Noya was in a rush to make a move at all. He was perfectly happy to ride the current of whatever this thing was between himself and Asahi. It was already so unique, defying every definition Noya had for any relationship so far. Bokuto called it a “flirtationship”, which was as accurate a term as Noya could come up with. There were no guidelines, no road maps for Noya to follow (not that he was great at following maps anyway).

Everything about Asahi was so different. Noya loved to jump into every single situation head-first because it just made everything so much more exciting. He liked the thrill of the unknown, that very unique rush that came with taking a risk. He'd asked Kiyoko out only two days after meeting her, and kissed Ryuu the same day he’d realized he was in love with him. He had no problem going for what he wanted, fast and with tenacity.

But with Asahi… with Asahi he didn't feel that way. He didn't feel the need to rush any of their interactions; Everything about him was slow and steady, measured and careful and completely opposite Noya’s nature. It was a new sort of adventure, a new sort of unknown where every tiny step felt like he was hurtling himself forward at a hundred miles an hour.

He was more than happy to take things at Asahi’s pace. He really, really liked Asahi.

He was falling fast enough for it to be dangerous anyway.

“Good morning!” Noya greeted when Asahi made his way into the cafe around nine. “Take a seat, I got your drink brewing as we speak.”

Asahi smiled that same sheepish smile he always wore whenever someone did something even remotely friendly or courteous. It was so cute, so shyly beautiful, matching the gentleness in his eyes and the flush in his cheeks.

It made Noya just a little sad to see it, though. He wondered what treatment he must be used to in order to react that way to the tiniest shred of kindness.

There was also the hand that found its way to the back of his neck. It reminded Noya of Kiyoko’s girlfriend, and the way that she always tugged at the bottom of her skirt or at her ponytail when she got nervous.

Asahi’s hand didn’t linger long this time, thank goodness. Instead, he rested them both in his lap as he took his seat at the bar.

“How’s your morning?” Noya asked as he began mixing up Asahi’s drink.

“Not very exciting,” Asahi said with a little shrug. “What about you?”

“Same old same old,” Noya replied. “It’s nice and slow this morning though so Hinata and I have been kind of messing around since we opened.”

“Hinata?” Asahi asked with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah! He’s the one with the bright red hair that sticks up in about a billion different directions,” Noya said, fanning his fingers out from his head to mimic what Hinata claimed was his bedhead.

Asahi lifted the back of his hand to his mouth as he chuckled at the ridiculous imitation, and Noya wished he wouldn’t cover it up.

“I’ve been wondering what his name was but I never got a chance to ask,” Asahi said, the faint outline of a smile still gracing his lips. Noya wondered if Asahi noticed how that smile turned his own cheeks the faintest shade of pink.

Noya turned away to keep himself from growing too hot in the face. He finished making Asahi’s drink, pouring in the steamed milk and finishing it off with another heart. He’d spent about an hour with Kiyoko after Asahi left after their first chat getting the grace of it just right. It was harder than it looked, and he still didn’t have it as nice as Kiyoko, but it was good enough for Noya. He needed a small, non-intrusive way to let Asahi know that there were some very non-platonic feelings blooming in his chest.

He handed the drink to Asahi with a grin. Asahi took it with a grateful tilt of his head and drew the mug up to his lips to cool the foam.

Noya had to forcefully flatten his mouth to keep from frowning, because Asahi hadn’t even _looked_ at the heart; before Asahi’s eyes darted down into his drink and he stilled. There was a moment, his lips trembling with a breath waiting to be released. Then there was bright pink crawling over his skin, up from the collar of his sweater to pool in his face.

Oh _god_ Noya hadn't been prepared for how perfectly adorable Asahi's reaction was going to be. He didn't look up, and Noya took that as a good sign? If he didn't think Noya was flirting he wouldn't have hesitated to make eye-contact, right? But he was flushed and even with his face downturned he saw the tiniest, shyest smile of delight pulling at his lips, his eyes soft and liquid like the swirls of Beans’ pecan syrup.

He was so...genuine. It made Noya’s heart sing.

Noya didn’t feel the need to talk about the gesture, especially after Asahi lifted the drink back up to his lips and sipped, disturbing his design. It was so strange, that every little bite victory was like being full after an excellent meal. That small smile, the look of bashful happiness in Asahi’s eyes, would sustain Noya for the rest of the day, possibly the rest of the week.

Noya didn’t take things slow, especially things like this. When he wanted something, he sprinted after it, hands outstretched and unashamed.

But Asahi wasn’t a dash to some finish line, some prize for Noya to win. Noya still didn’t know him super well, could barely call him a friend, but Noya could tell he was big. He was one of those people who came into your life and changed things, made them so different they could never go back to the way they were before.

For now, he was content with the hearts. There was no need to go any further. Noya could just sense it, that this was enough. They didn’t need to discuss it any further. It was there, they both acknowledged it, and it was enough.

They went back to talking like they normally would, beginning this time with a list of Asahi’s favorite historical time periods while Noya watched the way the crease in his eyebrows softened as he spoke.

Asahi was a marathon, and Noya was ready to go the distance, if Asahi would let him.

 

[19:07] **Noya:** Hey so I just remembered another question I had if that’s okay

[19:07] **Noya:** I wanted to ask you now since I won’t see you tomorrow (my day off)

[19:08] **Asahi:** Of course :) What’s up?

[19:09] **Noya:** Okay well Bokuto (roommate) and I got Into It™ today

[19:10] **Asahi:** Omg Noya XD

[19:10] **Noya:** What???? :O

[19:11] **Asahi:** I’ve never met anyone who abuses the trademark symbol more than you

[19:12] **Noya:** I Don’t™ Know™ What™ You Mean™

[19:12] **Asahi:** XD XD XD

[19:13] **Noya:** ;D

[19:14] **Asahi:** Lol sorry what was your question?

[19:15] **Noya:** Right!!! So we were talking about dinosaurs, right? Because dinosaurs are RAD as FUCK and it was just a nice lil conversation whatever

[19:16] **Noya:** And all I said was “isn’t it weird how dinosaurs all had feathers”

[19:16] **Noya:** And Bo was like “lol good one” and I was like “no I’m serious dude” and he

[19:17] **Noya:** I’ve never seen someone go through the 5 stages of grief right before my very eyes

[19:19] **Noya:** Anyway so now he refuses to believe me even after I showed him like 10 articles and Kuroo and Iwa (other roommates) were like “dude he’s right” but like

[19:20] **Noya:** You agree right??? Dinosaurs totally had feathers????

[19:21] **Asahi:** I’ve actually never heard that before but it makes sense

[19:23] **Asahi:** Isn’t that where chickens come from? They were all like...prehistoric lizard-birds?

[19:25] **Noya:** I’M WEAK

[19:25] **Asahi:** ????

[19:26] **Noya:** “prehistoric lizard-birds”

[19:27] **Noya:** That’s so fucking accurate but also hilarious and I’m cackling

[19:28] **Noya:** I’m glad you agree tho now it’s 4 to 1 so maybe he’ll believe me

[19:30] **Noya:** I’m gonna go check on him he’s in his room rn having a Crisis™

[19:31] **Asahi:** Omg XD

[19:32] **Noya:** Later! :P Thanks for the help

[19:33] **Asahi:** Of course :)

 

***

Day 5

_I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down_

_I want to come too_

 

“So…you thought that combustion engines actually blew things up?” Asahi asked with a little chuckle, hand drawn over his mouth.

It was Friday, late in the afternoon after Asahi's last class and the café was almost empty. He and Noya fell into an easy conversation, which was quickly becoming the norm. Noya was great at coming to these little exchanges with questions or topics of conversation. He had no problem with starting them off every day, no expectation at all for Asahi to carry that burden. There was no pressure on Asahi at all to talk or engage if he didn’t want to: just an understanding and excitement for the two of them to spend time together.

Asahi sat on a stool near the middle of the bar, sipping on the last of his drink. Noya, with nothing to do, leaned toward Asahi with his elbow on the counter. Behind him, Hinata fluttered in and out of view, replacing the syrups and cleaning the area around their containers.

“Well, what would you think if all you knew about them was the word ‘combustion’?” Noya defended with mock offense, but he betrayed himself with a snicker.

“I guess I never really thought about it to be honest,” Asahi conceded. “Although I wouldn’t think they were explosive. Not like…a bomb or something.”

“Well, why not? It makes sense that cars could be propelled by explosive energy!” Noya insisted, smacking his hand on the bar for emphasis.

“Noya...that would be so dangerous,” Asahi reasoned.

“But imagine how much more exciting it would be!”

Asahi chuckled again, shaking his head and downing that last little bit of syrupy-coffee sludge that gathered at the bottom.

“Wait, do combustion engines _not_ use explosions?” Hinata interrupted, poking his head around the corner of the doorway leading to their storage room.

“They sort of do,” Noya explained. “It’s like little mini explosions inside these chambers in the engine. But they’re so small it’s more just like...sparks.”

“Like lighting a match?” Hinata asked.

“More like if an ant set off a firework.”

“Ohhhh!” Hinata exclaimed, like this was the most exciting news in the entire world.

Noya chuckled affectionately as his little baby-bird-like coworker disappeared into the back room again. Asahi smiled a little too. He liked Hinata, though his energy was a little overwhelming and his volume control could definitely use some discipline.

Asahi was sort of starting to get to know the other baristas at the cafe. There was the assistant manager Kiyoko—quiet, pensive, but kind and unbelievably observant—along with Noya and Hinata. He had also met Kindaichi, Ennoshita, and Shirabu, though they were less inclined to engage in conversation. Noya, Kiyoko, and Hinata seemed to work the most hours, or at least their schedules aligned more closely with Asahi’s. Kiyoko and Hinata now sometimes engaged with Noya and Asahi, and Asahi found that Noya wasn’t the only thing drawing him to the cafe anymore.

The entire place was beginning to feel safe. Comfortable.

“Do you have to go soon, Asahi?” Noya asked as he left the bar to clean the back counter.

“Oh, I was planning on staying a bit longer, if that’s okay?” Asahi said tentatively, hand not quite reaching his neck but resting on his shoulder instead.

“Yes, absolutely!” Noya said excitedly. “Because I’ve been thinking about what you said about being the trademark of awkward? And I think I have a couple of stories that might make you feel a bit better about that.”

Asahi’s shoulders dropped, his hand sliding nice and relaxed into his lap. “Sure. I’m eager to defend my title.”

Noya laughed, running an easy hand through his hair in a way that made Asahi grow extra warm all of a sudden.

“Let's see…” Noya pondered, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Ah! On one of my first days here we had someone who managed to spill their drink all over the additive station—where all the napkins and sugar and stuff is—and then when they tried to clean it up they slipped and fell and actually managed to tip the shelf enough to spill literally all of our plasticware all over the floor.”

“Were they okay?” Asahi asked with a concerned frown. His heart twinged empathetically because that could have easily been him and he probably would have had to move cities.

“Oh, they were fine. I haven’t seen them in here since then though,” Noya chuckled.

“I don’t blame them. I’d probably die if that happened to me,” Asahi said. “I almost didn’t come back after that first little incident here.”

Noya’s brows knitted together and he tilted his head curiously to the side. “Incident?”

“Yeah. When I totally panicked and had you pick my drink out for me? And then I couldn’t even finish it because it was so bitter.” Asahi reflected woefully. That memory still sometimes kept him up at night. He still worried a little bit that Kiyoko or even Noya held that first impression of him as the rude, high-maintenance giant hairy beast man.

Noya squinted at him even harder, lips slightly parted. Asahi shrank a little in his seat, feeling suddenly like he’d said something wrong, though he wasn’t quite sure what it was. Was Noya angry? Maybe he hadn’t noticed before and now he was angry and offended and oh god he shouldn’t have mentioned it because now Noya was actually going to realize how horribly awkward he was and—

“When did this happen?” Noya asked. Asahi felt his mouth go dry but Noya...didn’t sound angry? Then again, Asahi wasn’t sure what an angry Noya sounded like.

“It...my first day…” Asahi muttered, pulling at the soft hair on the back of his neck.

Noya’s eyes narrowed to slivers and Asahi felt himself catch on fire.

“I don’t...I’m really sorry...I wasn’t...I wasn’t trying…” Asahi fumbled, fist clenching and unclenching at his hairline.

“No!” Noya exclaimed, waving his hands frantically. “No, no you don’t need to apologize. I was just trying to think about it and like...I honestly don’t remember that at all.”

Asahi stopped moving. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Noya beamed. “Yeah, I don’t remember you being awkward. I mean, you definitely seemed nervous, but I figured it was just because you’re a little shy. And I make drink recommendations literally all the time, so it didn’t even register as something that might be even remotely odd or anything.”

Asahi felt light-headed with relief. He exhaled all of the air in his lungs, slumping forward a little and resting his head in his hands on the bar.

“Are you okay?” Noya asked, sounding alarmed.

Asahi made a movement with his head that was half-nod, half-shake. “No. I mean yes, I am. I just...I’ve been thinking about that day on and off since it happened and I was just...I was so sure your first impression of me was that I was a lumbering buffoon.”

Asahi peeked through his fingers in time to see Noya clasp a hand over his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut.

“I—I’m sorry,” he snorted through his fingers. “I’m sorry I just...that isn’t even remotely what I thought of you.”

“It...wasn’t?” Asahi asked, lowering his hands to rest flat on the counter.

“No,” Noya shook his head, still snickering a little. “Absolutely not.”

“But...the sugar thing?”

“People add sugar to flavored drinks literally all the time.”

Asahi blinked at Noya for a moment, processing. Then he sighed, a smoggy cloud of stress that had been brewing inside him for weeks pouring out of his mouth as his head hit the counter. The emotion he felt was so far beyond relief he couldn’t define it. He was practically floating with the knowledge that Noya didn’t think anything about his awkwardness. That he didn’t even see it as awkwardness.

Asahi wanted to ask what Noya had thought of him at first, if it wasn’t a judgement call on his anxiety. Before he had a chance, though, Hinata popped back into view practically vibrating off the floor with excitement.

“I organized everything back here, Nishinoya-san!”

“Okay, let me check it super fast just to make sure or Kiyoko will be pissed,” Noya said. “And it’s Noya, Hinata-kun! Or Yuu.”

“Okay Nishi—uh, Noya-san!”

Noya snorted and rolled his eyes as the redhead disappeared into the back again.

Asahi was still reeling a little with the earth-shattering revelation that these people hadn't, in fact, taken a microscope to his every word and deed. He looked up at Noya, who goddammit was smiling his sunshine smile again as he wiped his hands off with a rag. Asahi could rarely help but smile back, despite his currently dazed state.

Asahi’s phone rang with a call from Suga before he could continue their conversation, though.

“I should take this,” Asahi said a little woefully. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Noya said. “Have a great day!”

“You too.”

Asahi hurried outside to take the call, a big disgruntled at Suga's poor timing. He walked home only half-listening to Suga’s dinner request as he thought about Noya, and thought endlessly about that first impression.

By the evening, it was driving him almost up the wall. It wasn’t something he thought he’d have the courage to ask the next day, so he decided to text Noya. They texted almost every night anyway.

 

[22:44] **Asahi:** So I have a question

[22:45] **Noya:** Oh???? :D

[22:45] **Asahi:** Yeah, is that okay? I know you normally ask

[22:46] **Noya:** Always!!! You’re always allowed to ask questions

[22:46] **Asahi:** Okay :)

[22:47] **Asahi:** I was just...wondering

[22:47] **Asahi:** What was your first impression of me?

[22:47] **Noya:** Oh!!! Yeah for sure :)

[22:48] **Noya:** I could tell you were really kind. Like...you just have a kind face and really gentle eyes :)

[22:50] **Asahi:** ………………..

[22:50] **Noya:** Was that bad????

[22:51] **Asahi:** No not at all

[22:51] **Asahi:** No one has ever described my face as “kind” that’s all

[22:52] **Noya:** For real???? :O

[22:53] **Asahi:** Yeah, people always say I look intimidating because I’m tall and the facial hair and stuff

[22:55] **Noya:** Well that’s ridiculous

[22:55] **Noya:** I’m pretty sure anyone who’s actually looked at you for more than a second can tell that you’re really just a big teddy bear

[22:57] **Asahi:** XP XP XP

[22:57] **Asahi:** Sorry I’m just embarrassed

[22:58] **Noya:** Awww I’m sorry but it’s true :)

[22:59] **Asahi:** XP Thank you

[23:00] **Noya:** Of course!!!

[23:01] **Noya:** I really wanna know what your first impression of me was but I’m falling asleep rn

[23:02] **Noya:** Later?? XP

[23:03] **Asahi:** Yeah for sure :)

[23:03] **Asahi:** Goodnight!

 

***

Day 10

_No one understands me quite like you do_

_Through all of the shadowy corners of me_

 

One of the things Noya was beginning to like the most about Asahi was his thoughtfulness. Asahi claimed that it was because of his nervousness, his tendency to overthink, but Noya knew from every interaction that wasn’t the whole story.

He didn’t give himself enough credit for how kind he was in his core, how absolutely gentle his soul was. He was the sort of person who stepped on a flower, apologized, and tried to replant it in new soil. His self-consciousness was born out of a fear for causing harm to another living thing, of taking up space not meant for him.

He was really a unique and beautiful person, and what was frustrating was that Noya knew Asahi didn’t see it. He was a person who should love everything about himself, but Noya suspected he loved very little.

Noya remembered that this was one of the first thoughts that crossed his mind—the first thing he noticed was how deeply tender Asahi’s eyes were. How attractive they were, how attractive he was with a frame and facial hair that seemed at odds with that sensitivity but also somehow fitting.

He was cute. He was _hot_.

 _"They're_ delicious _," Noya said as he wiped down the bar, trying hard not to stare._

_"Who?" Kiyoko asked from the register._

_"Them," Noya said, jabbing his chin in the stranger's direction. "That gorgeous hunk of human over there."_

_Kiyoko looked over her shoulder for a moment to glance in the stranger's direction._

_"Oh, that's Blushing-san," she said simply, returning to the counting of their bills._

_"Blushing-san?" Noya repeated excitedly. "Does that mean you know them?"_

_"I had a class with him last year," Kiyoko shrugged._

_"Is... Is his name actually Blushing-san?" Noya asked._

_"Oh no. It was a stupid nickname our professor used for him. I don't like it but I never learned his name."_

_Noya nodded as his eyes wandered again and again to the stranger's table. He wondered what his real name was, a little miffed that someone would dub him with something so patronizing. It was accurate to a degree, but Noya could sense there was infinitely more to this person than bubbled with his blush to the surface. He wanted to know what that something might be, but that seemed really weird for someone he'd met less than thirty minutes ago._

_Noya looked down and realized he'd been scrubbing the same spot on the counter over and over._

           

Sometimes Noya still got lost scrubbing the same spot on the bar. It was so, so easy for him to get lost in Asahi. He got lost in his eyes (cheesy as hell, but true), the particular cadence of his voice, the way every emotion was written loud and clear across every muscle in his face. It was so easy it was frightening.

Who could blame him though? Asahi was someone it was so, so easy to fall in love with.

Not that he was in love with him. That was a bit much, but he was certainly being forcefully catapulted in that direction very quickly.

“Noya?”

“Hmmm?”

Noya hadn’t been listening whatsoever. He was too busy concentrating on memorizing every nuance of brown in Asahi’s eyes.

“Sorry, I totally zoned out,” Noya apologized with a grin. “What did you say?”

“Oh, you’re fine,” Asahi replied with a smile—a smile he had been wearing brighter, more certainly every day. “I was just wondering what you think of your classes so far.”

“They’re _shit_ ,” Noya groaned, throwing his rag under the counter with a stomp of his foot. Asahi laughed—such a lovely, authentic sound that Noya sometimes replayed in his head before falling asleep. “But I’m actually kind of enjoying them?”

“Oh?” Asahi asked.

“Yeah!” Noya exclaimed. “I mean, they’re really, really difficult for sure and like, I’m not very good at school or studying or anything but my roommates are helping me make it super interesting!”

“That's great,” Asahi said. “I'm glad you feel that way. I know you were unsure of that a few weeks ago.”

 _Thoughtful,_ Noya swooned internally. _He needs to chill. Or I need to chill. We probably both need to chill._

“I think I’ll probably be able to kick ass, at least this semester,” Noya said, moving to tidy up the syrups a but in the lull. “Bokuto and Iwaizumi are both studying science too and they’re smart as hell so I think I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” Asahi smiled warmly. “But you’re smart too so…”

Noya looked away, and he wondered if Asahi noticed how often he had to do that to keep from turning every shade of red in the human physiological spectrum. He wondered if Asahi knew at all what he did to Noya, if he knew how smitten Noya was starting to become.

“How are your classes going?” Noya asked as he cleaned the excess syrup off the bottles and counter.

“They're… going,” Asahi said with a tentative chuckle. “I'm going to have to choose my area of concentration soon so that's looming over my head.”

“Yeah? Do you have any idea of where you might like to study?”

Asahi scrunched his mouth up to the side, tapping his chin like he did when he was thinking hard. Noya had noticed that Asahi used his hands a lot. They got especially busy when Asahi was particularly anxious—tangling in his lap, drumming on the counter, and especially worrying the back of his neck. Noya had never gotten a good look at that spot, but he suspected that it was likely rubbed raw and hairless from how often Asahi’s hands scrabbled at it.

There was the reminder again of Kiyoko’s girlfriend, how she would tug painfully hard at her ponytail, and he absently wondered if there was a way to help Asahi rub his neck without hurting himself.

“I think I might study either Thailand or Bangladesh,” Asahi finally said, breaking into Noya’s thoughts.

“Yeah? What interests you about those places?” Noya asked easily, as if he hadn’t just wandered off again thinking hard about Asahi.

“My family lives in both of those places,” Asahi said, and there was an affectionate sort of cheerfulness in his voice. “My older brother lives in Bangladesh with his best friend and then my sister is studying in Thailand.”

“That’s so cool! Do you visit them a lot?” Noya asked, leaning against the bar to give Asahi more of his attention.

“Not as often as I’d like,” Asahi said with a half-hearted shrug. “But every once in awhile we go and visit. They come here fairly often.”

“That’s wicked,” Noya grinned. “I’ve never been out of the country. That must be amazing.”

“Never?” Asahi asked with an adorable little tilt of his head.

“Nope,” Noya shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to but with the four of us my parents never really had the means. We did go to Kyushu pretty often, to go to the onsen in Kumamoto, but that’s about the most exciting place I’ve been to.”

Asahi opened his mouth like he was about to say something. Then his brows furrowed, and he seemed to decide against it with a forceful clatter of his teeth as he slammed his mouth shut. Noya blinked, about to ask what was wrong, when the doorbell chimed and Ennoshita walked in.

Noya perked up a little, greeting his coworker with a broad smile as he made his way behind the counter to take over Noya’s shift.

A sudden impulse came over Noya. He realized that this was the first time he’d gotten off work when Asahi was sitting at the bar. It would be the perfect excuse to ask Asahi to maybe stick around and grab coffee, spend time together without two feet of wooden countertop between them. Or they could leave: go somewhere else without the smell of coffee and the distracting chatter of students where it would be just the two of them.

But Asahi stood before Noya had the chance to ask, a small smile and a little wave.

“I have to get going, but I’ll see you,” he said. His eyes paused briefly to touch on Noya’s face, just long enough to hold his gaze. He immediately turned bright pink, hand moving to his neck as he waved again. “Bye Noya, bye Ennoshita-san.”

“Bye Asahi! See you later!” Noya said, with the slightest bit of bitterness in his mouth at the lost opportunity.

“Goodbye Azumane-san,” Ennoshita said with a cheerful little wave. All of the baristas knew Asahi at this point. Ennoshita especially always bugged him to ask if Noya had “finally asked him out already”.

There had been a few times when he’d typed out a message asking to plan something together away from Beans, but he’d never sent it. It didn’t seem right.

Asahi left with one final friendly wave, his sheepish but genuine smile gracing his lips. Noya sighed heavily and clocked out, staring at the door long after the pair of broad shoulders were gone from view. Ennoshita was wearing a knowing little half-smile, but he didn’t say anything.

Everyone at the cafe knew how Noya felt at this point. He wasn’t a subtle flirter—especially now that he was putting that heart in Asahi’s drink every day. Which was why it was a wonder that Asahi hadn’t picked up on how _hard_ Noya was trying. Or maybe he could and he just hadn’t said anything. It was hard to tell.

Noya was impatient but he wasn’t insensitive. However badly he wanted to become more than Asahi’s barista—to be his friend or whatever else out in the real world—he was waiting. It was okay to wait. It was brutal, but it was okay.

Asahi was worth it.

 

[21:35] **Noya:** You know, I never asked you what the first thing you noticed about me was ;P

[21:35] **Asahi:** Oh, right

[21:36] **Asahi:** Do you want me to be honest?

[21:36] **Noya:** No, I want you to LIE to me XD

[21:37] **Asahi:** Just checking XP

[21:37] **Noya:** Haha :)

[21:38] **Asahi:** Well

[21:38] **Asahi:** Okay

[21:39] **Asahi:** Don’t laugh please?

[21:41] **Noya:** Of course not!!! :D

[21:43] **Asahi:** Your eyes

[21:44] **Asahi:** They’re really...emotive. And bright

[21:45] **Asahi:** I’m sorry I hope that isn’t weird D//X

[21:46] **Noya:** Omg no not at all!!! That means a lot haha

[21:46] **Noya:** Besides I told you my fave part about you was your eyes so

[21:47] **Noya:** It’s kinda cute :)

[21:47] **Asahi:** Yeah :) :)

[21:48] **Noya:** :)

[21:49] **Noya:** See you tomorrow??? I work 12-8

[21:50] **Asahi:** I’ll stop by for sure :) Night

[21:50] **Noya:** Goodnight!!!

 

***

Day 17

_I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop_

_I love so much_

 

It was a Wednesday, a little over two weeks after Asahi first sat down to have a conversation with Noya, when Asahi realized something rather extraordinary.

He was flipping through his texts, trying to find something funny to show Daichi and Suga over breakfast when he noticed how short their exchanges over text had become. At first, they’d had a full conversation every day: Asahi saying things he wasn’t completely comfortable sharing in person, Noya sharing questions he didn’t want to forget, continuing discussions they’d left hanging.

As he scrolled forward, though, he noticed that the messages were getting shorter and shorter, and that as they did Asahi’s words were becoming more confident. He didn’t feel the need to get any of those his thoughts out exclusively over text anymore. He was fine talking to Noya in person. It was enjoyable.

It was _preferable_.

It was so easy and natural Asahi couldn’t explain it. Suga and Daichi asked him every day about their interactions, especially interested in their relationship status. All Asahi could do was shrug because he really didn’t know how to describe it. They weren’t dating of course, but they were obviously more than friends. Lingering glances, the electric brush of fingertips as Noya handed him his mug every day, the heart that had become as integral to Asahi’s Rolling Thunder as the coffee itself; these were unjustified by platonic terms, but they also weren’t explicitly romantic.

Even more surprising was that Asahi hadn’t thought much about trying to define whatever they were. It was an uncertainty that Asahi was comfortable with, because it didn’t feel uncertain. He’d never been surer of anything than how he was sure of Noya.

Of course, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more. He wanted so, so badly for more than just a millisecond of contact, to know what Noya’s experienced, calloused hands felt like entwined with his own. He wanted to know if Noya’s lips carried the taste of all the coffee he consumed every day or if something else lingered there. He wanted to know what Noya was like outside of this context—outside of the cafe, far away from coffee in a world without espresso and the warmth of steamed milk.

“Are you going to the cafe today?” Suga asked pleasantly as he sipped on his morning tea.

Asahi knew where this conversation was going—where it went every time Suga asked it. He rolled his eyes and shook his head but he answered it anyway either because he loved Suga or he hated himself, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Nishinoya works at two so that’s when I’ll probably stop by.”

“You know, I have yet to meet this boy of yours,” Daichi said slyly, throwing Suga sidelong glance. “I don’t have class then. I could come with you?”

“No,” Asahi said with a very loud frown. “We haven’t even spent time together outside of that place. It would be weird if I was bringing my friends to meet him.”

“It wouldn’t be weird,” Suga insisted excitedly. “I don’t have class either. We could all go together!”

“No, please,” Asahi groaned. “Please, I still...we haven’t...it would be weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” Suga pressed.

“Because we haven’t...discussed things,” Asahi said lamely. Both Suga and Daichi’s brows rose creepily in unison.

“Discussed things?” Daichi asked. “Like…”

“Like our relationship, yes,” Asahi sighed dejectedly. “I want to have that conversation before I start awkwardly introducing him to people in my life. That way I’m not like, ‘oh, this is my friend Noya’ and he thinks I don’t like him because I absolutely _do_ but we haven’t...yeah.”

Daichi cocked a confused brow but Suga bobbed his head in understanding and Asahi thought he’d never seen a more succinct personification of their mentality with his anxiety in his life.

“You’ll just have to discuss it soon then,” Suga decided. “Then we can actually meet this mysterious man who’s been stealing away all of your time.”

Suga was still smiling but his words packed a punch. Asahi had been spending significantly less time with the two of them since meeting Noya. Was he hurting their feelings? Were they upset with him? Was his fling with Noya becoming unhealthy? Was he ruining their friendship and making it seem like he didn’t love them anymore?

“Oh, he isn’t...I’m sorry—”

“No, no, I was just joking Asahi,” Suga said, waving his hands frantically. “We know you still love us, you’re fine.”

“How long has it been anyway? Since your last relationship?” Daichi asked with a quizzical look.

“Yui,” Asahi answered with a fond smile. “I haven’t really had any interest since her.”

“Oh, right, Yui,” Daichi said, turning a little pink and glancing at Suga.

“It was like the two of you did a partner swap,” Suga giggled, clearly unbothered by the mention of Daichi’s ex.

“You two were an odd pair from the beginning though,” Daichi said with a tilt of his chin toward Asahi and Suga. Asahi couldn’t say he disagreed, but it had been an exciting experiment to say the very least.

“Regardless, I think it’s been more than enough time and you’re definitely ready to get back into the game!” Suga said with a little pound of his fist on the table for emphasis.

Asahi wasn’t entirely convinced. It was a lot. Dating again was...well. Asahi had a tendency to develop too many feelings for someone.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Suga reassured him, patting the back of his hand. “We know you’ll figure it out.”

“I’d consider talking to him about it soon, though,” Daichi suggested.

“Right,” Suga agreed with his characteristically warm but somewhat cheeky smile. “Mostly for your sanity. And ours.”

Suga winked at him as he stood to clean up their dishes before the three of them headed to class. Asahi still felt a little guilty while he gathered his things, continued to worry long after the subject had been dropped and the three of them went their respective ways for the day.

He knew he was overthinking it, like he overthought everything, but of course his big dumb brain made him do it anyway.

While the uncertainty of their “label” didn’t really bother Asahi, he wondered if it bothered Noya. Noya was so sure of everything he did. He told Asahi he was sure when he started studying science at university and he was sure when he’d applied for the coffee shop and he was sure when he quit volleyball that it was time to pursue other interests. He made decisions without regret, quickly and securely and just about the opposite of how Asahi made them.

Noya knew, too, that Asahi was extremely unsure about everything. Maybe he was waiting for Asahi to make the first move. Maybe he didn’t want to make Asahi uncomfortable. Maybe nothing would happen if Asahi couldn’t take that first step.

What if he did ask Noya out, and Noya turned him down? Maybe they really were just friends. Maybe the foamy heart was just a sign of platonic affection because Noya was genuinely one of the nicest (if not most intense) people Asahi had ever met. Maybe Asahi was just reading the entire situation wrong and Noya only wanted a friendship with Asahi and what if Asahi made a boneheaded first move and made Noya so uncomfortable he asked Asahi to stop coming into the cafe?

He was so worked up he was clammy and breathing hard by the time he got to Beans that afternoon. Daichi and Suga’s words were ringing in his ears, but he was in such a panic he had no idea what to do. He was working the back of his neck and felt like he might actually cry.

Asahi wanted to make the first move. He wanted to be brave. But it was just too risky and he just couldn’t do it.

Even as he settled into his seat, and Noya’s dazzling smile relaxed him just enough for his hand to fall onto the table. His heart ached. Noya probably deserved someone better than him anyway.

Noya started their conversation by recounting a tale about him and his roommate Bokuto nearly getting evicted because they took the mattresses off their bed and rode them down their apartment’s stairwell, and Asahi felt like his insides were made of lemonade: sweet with affection but sour with indecision. Noya waved his arms around, barked out a laugh that made everyone at the bar turn to listen to him, and Asahi shrank a little in his seat.

Noya might have been looking at him with eyes made of something even brighter than the sun and Asahi squirmed. He felt guilty. He felt small.

Noya was an unbreakable force of nature and he probably deserved someone a lot more courageous than Asahi anyway. Asahi could be his friend, because Noya smiled at him when he came into the cafe, and he knew he wasn’t being a burden.

As they talked, Asahi’s apprehension gave way to something more like desire, more like a hungry kind of wanting. He _wanted_ Noya. He thought about it all the time: what it would be like to hold Noya against his chest, to kiss the coffee from Noya’s tongue, to breathe in that enthralling smell of Old Spice and coffee. He wanted to date Noya. He wanted Noya in his life.

He was falling so hard for this boy it was probably a bad idea. Everything in Asahi screamed at him to keep it simple, keep it platonic, but for once he didn’t want to listen. He wanted to do something daring.

He wanted to lean over the bar, grab Noya by the collar, and slot their lips together.

Of course, he wasn’t going to do that. Not today, probably not tomorrow, but maybe someday…

Maybe someday he could be big enough and brave enough to go for it like he wanted to, both hands sinking into the unknown to grab something he knew was worth the risk.

Maybe someday.

Just not today.

 

***

Day 21

_All of the while, all of the while,_

_it was you_

 

It had been over a month since Asahi had first come into the shop, April was giving way to May, and Noya honestly couldn't remember what the cafe had been like before him. He only knew that there was a marked difference between when Asahi was there and when his seat at the bar was empty. Maybe it was Asahi himself—and how he was an absolute, uniquely beautiful person—or maybe it was how Asahi made Noya feel. He made Noya feel like he was being bathed in starlight, like he was talking to someone he’d known for so long they must have been friends in a past life too.

Asahi was one of the most amazing people he’d ever met in his life. He made Noya feel so incredible he didn’t even know how to describe it. It was the gentleness in his eyes, the soft rumble of his laugh, the way he held his rather large frame with such care and awareness of those around him, the way he thought so hard about what he was going to say, like every word out of his mouth held enormous weight.

It was the way that Asahi was so ridiculously empathetic and kind Noya wondered how every person he interacted with didn’t fall in love with him.

Noya wanted to kiss him. Noya wanted to run his fingers through the long locks of his hair, tug on them until their lips were pressed firmly together. He wanted to go on a date, play footsie under a table, hold hands and walk through a park, take Asahi back to meet Kiyoko and Yachi. He wanted to let Asahi into his real life, not just his barista life.

He talked about all of this probably way too much with his roommates. He asked for advice, for flirting pointers, told them every detail he could about their conversations.

“You need to ask him out, Yuu,” Bokuto told him one night after Noya spent nearly twenty minutes talking about a debate he and Asahi had that day about the benefits of almond versus soy milk. “Seriously. He’s a really shy dude so I think it’s gonna have to be you.”

“I knowwww,” Noya groaned, clutching a pillow to his chest. “I know, I know, but like...I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, you know? I don’t want to freak him out and make it seem like I’m pressuring him or anything. And I haven’t told him about...the thing yet.”

“I think that’s fine,” Kuroo interjected. “I think that can come with time. We just need to get you on a date with him.”

Bokuto nodded, face all scrunched up as he thought deeply. They sat on their living room sofa together with Kuroo—who was _not_ Noya’s roommate but might as well have been since he and Bokuto were so close. This was a fairly common occurrence nowadays, and Noya was surprised that they hadn’t gotten sick of it by now. Well. Other than Iwaizumi.

“You’re worried about asking him out in person, yeah?” Kuroo asked with his eyes narrowed in thought. “What about over text? He’s more comfortable with that, isn’t he?”

“I thought about that but like...it doesn’t feel good to do it that way. Too impersonal, you know?” Noya reasoned. “I want him to know I really care about his answer.”

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

They sat for a moment without speaking, all three of them thinking hard. Over the past few weeks, Kuroo and Bokuto (and Kiyoko to some extent) had become extremely invested in Noya’s would-be relationship. Noya hadn’t had a crush this intense since early, early in his high school years. He was head-over-heels for Asahi, falling for every single thing about him and it was starting to get unbearable.

He’d been trying to work out how to ask him out for days now. It wasn’t nerves holding him back; it was the thought of making Asahi anxious. He didn’t want to do anything to make that hand jump to the back of his neck. Not if he could help it.

That and the secret he’d been keeping. Well, it wasn’t a _secret_ exactly, but it was something Asahi definitely deserved to know sooner or later.

Probably later. He didn’t want another reason to scare Asahi away.

“Well, what if you did something that was like, a mix between the two?” Bokuto offered excitedly, breaking into the silence.

“What do you mean?” Noya asked.

Bokuto grinned, wide and toothy, and Noya knew that whatever was going to come out of his mouth was either going to be brilliant or horrible.

“I’ve got an idea.”

 

Something had been a little off about Noya all afternoon. He seemed distracted, darting around a little more than usual, eyes sliding away from Asahi’s face too often. The longer Asahi sat there, the more strange Noya was acting. His laughter sounded forced, and for the first time Asahi felt like Noya was hearing but not really listening to what he was saying.

Asahi wasn't at all offended of course, just concerned. When he asked if something was wrong, Noya just insisted he felt a little ill.

“I'll be fine. My shift ends in like an hour and then I can go home and sleep forever.”

“Why do you always insist on sleeping for inhuman amounts of time?” Asahi frowned, still unconvinced.

“I like long naps!” Noya shrugged with the fakest smile Asahi had ever seen.

“That isn't a nap Noya, that's a coma,” Asahi said firmly.

Noya snorted, but it wasn't a laugh: it was distracted and concerning. Asahi wanted to press, wanted to know if it was something he'd done or if something happened with his roommates or school or if it was something else entirely. He held his tongue, though, not wanting to intrude. If there was one thing Asahi had learned over the past month it was that Noya was a terrifyingly open person. If he wanted to share, he would.

Asahi thought that maybe if he just casually and very softly pressed the issue, Noya might open up. Unfortunately, it was already half past three and Asahi had promised to be home before four to help Suga bake bread.

He sighed heavily and waved at Noya to get his attention.

“I have to get going,” Asahi said regretfully.

“Oh, okay!” Noya said with that heartbreakingly fake smile he'd been forcing all day. “But wait—hold on okay? Don't go just yet. I just… just hold on.”

Asahi furrowed his brows but stayed put. Noya dove under the counter to retrieve a to-go cup for him and bustled around to make him another Rolling Thunder. Asahi opened his mouth to protest, but closed it immediately because he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Instead he sat, twiddling his thumbs and feeling his face flare bright red.

When Noya turned around, Asahi knew something was up. His face was tinted with pink, but his smile was drawn with the stunning exuberance Asahi had come to love so much. He scribbled something onto the side of and thrust his hand forward.

“Figured you could use something for the road.”

“Ah, thank you,” Asahi replied, confused but unbelievably grateful. “I’m guessing you won’t be letting me pay you for this?”

“Do I ever?” Noya grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Asahi.”

Asahi chuckled, clutching the drink tight to his chest as he waved goodbye to Noya for the afternoon.

Once outside, Asahi looked at the gift affectionately and curiously. He turned it to the side as he walked, wondering what Noya had written on it. It took him a moment to find the note, and another to make out Noya’s chicken-scratch writing.

Asahi stopped so suddenly someone walking behind him ran square into his back. He muttered an apology, but barely registered it as they walked away snarling insults under their breath. He’d stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking. His brain locked up, and it took him a solid minute to even process the words written on his cup.

Then, he was moving without thinking. He broke into a  jog, though he was only a block or so away from the coffee shop. The drink was spilling boiling hot through the opening in the lid all over his hand but he didn’t feel it. He wasn’t processing a single thing around him, wasn’t thinking anything at all until he reached the door to the cafe.

With his hand on the door, however, he froze. His heart was hammering out of control, palms drenched in sweat. It would be easier just to text Noya, just send him a quick message where he wouldn’t have to be seen by loads of people. But that didn’t seem right. Not for this.

He wanted to look at Noya’s face when he said it.

In a stroke of bravery he didn’t know he was capable of, Asahi pushed his way inside the door.

His cheeks immediately burned because of the number of heads he turned. He thought about leaving right then, but he had just enough ecstatic adrenaline coursing through him for one more act of courage. He strolled right up to the counter, ignoring Kiyoko at the register and going right up to Noya who was blinking and looking a little panicked.

“Asahi?” he said, and Asahi vaguely realized he probably looked a wild mess. “Are you—”

“Yes,” Asahi interrupted, panting.

Noya blinked. He was frozen in place, holding the pitcher of steamed milk and staring. Then, a smile that outshone the sun, that outshone any light in the known universe, split across his face and curved his eyes until they were almost shut.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yes,” Asahi repeated, his own lips curling upwards. “Absolutely. Yes.”

Noya’s head tipped back as he laughed loud and unashamed, and Asahi couldn’t help but join in. He drew a hand over his face, then through his hair, and Asahi wasn’t sure whether he looked more excited or relieved. Beside him, the corner of Kiyoko’s mouth twitched up as she counted through the bills in the register drawer.

“Oh my god Asahi,” Noya laughed, ruffling up his hair. “I wasn’t...oh my god. I was expecting you to text me or something.”

“Yeah, well…” _I totally panicked_. “It seemed a little too important for a text, you know?”

Noya nodded, because he _did_ know. Asahi suspected they both knew the magnitude of what was happening right now. Almost a month of tension, of flirting and dancing around the issue and falling fast and hard, and now…

They were both standing in a crowded cafe, grinning like absolute fools, staring at each other like they were the only people in the world. They probably looked ridiculous, but Asahi didn’t care. Not now.

Their moment ended far too soon. Noya looked away, shaking his head a little and still laughing under his breath.

“I’ll text you tonight, okay?” Noya said as he set down the milk. “We can figure something out then and we can...but I gotta get back to work right now. I promise, I actually do _promise_ that my phone isn’t dead this time and I’ll text you the second I get off, okay?”

“Okay,” Asahi nodded. “I’ll...yeah. I’ll be around. I’ll talk to you later then?”

“Later,” Noya said emphatically.

It took an enormous effort for Asahi to move his feet this time, waving at Noya and the slyly smiling Kiyoko. He texted Suga that he was going to be late as he walked out the door but didn’t have it in him to feel guilty. He couldn’t stop smiling. He was in disbelief, waiting to wake up from the most incredible dream he’d ever had.

He took a sip of his perfectly made Rolling Thunder and read Noya’s message over and over, until he memorized every character, every way that Noya’s fingers had stroked across cup. He smiled until his mouth hurt but he couldn’t stop. It was too good to be true.

He read the words until he was sure they’d be filed away in his mind for a long, long time.

_Will you go out with me? <3_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best bae award goes to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	6. Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You nervous?”
> 
> “A little. Mostly excited though,” Noya grinned.
> 
> Kuroo's smile widened. “That's good. Have you told him yet?”
> 
> “I—not yet,” Noya admitted.
> 
> The fire of excitement in his stomach suddenly turned into a lava pit of dread. His fists clenched on his thighs as he thought.  
> He'd been meaning to tell Asahi. Really, he had, but it never seemed like the right time. Not something he usually casually slipped into conversation. He wasn't embarrassed by it or anything. He wasn't even that worried about Asahi's reaction. He just… wasn't sure exactly how to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERT!
> 
> Noya is kind of unintentionally "outed" in this chapter. However! Noya was planning on telling Asahi about everything soon anyway and he had the ability to tell Asahi or not tell Asahi about his transition. I totally understand a lot of trans folks (including me) being tired of that trope but. This was just what made sense to me for the characters. Hopefully it was done okay.

[16:23] **Asahi:** Hey sorry I'm late something came up

 _[16:24]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Oh?? Are you okay?_

[16:24] **Asahi:** Oh yeah I'm completely fine. It was a good something

 _[16:25]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Now I'm curious_

 _[16:26]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _What kind of good something?_

[16:26] **Asahi:** I'll tell you at home

 _[16:26]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Okay…_

 _[16:28]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Wait_

 _[16:28]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Did it finally happen?????_

[16:29] **Asahi:** I'll tell you at home Suga

 _[16:30]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _ASAHI IT HAPPENED DIDN'T IT_

 _[16:30]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _I'M LITERALLY SO HAPPY OH MY GODDDD_

 _[16:30]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Give me every detail even Daichi is excited_

[16:31] **Asahi:** It’s too complicated to explain here I’ll tell you when I get home

[16:31] **Asahi:** But the short answer is yes :) he asked me out

 _[16:32]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Okayyyyyy fine I’ll wait :(_

 _[16:33]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Even though I’m SO EXCITED_

 _[16:34]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _But the minute that door opens you're spilling alright?_

[16:35] **Asahi:** I know I want to tell you

[16:36] **Asahi:** I probably look like an idiot I can’t stop smiling

 _[16:36]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _SCREAMMINNGGGG_

 _[16:37]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _And thank GOD_

 _[16:37]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _This little dry spell of yours has been far too long for comfort_

 _[16:38]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _I need you out of my fucking house every once in awhile (which you have been and I love you but thank you)_

[16:39] **Asahi:** SUGA

[16:39] **Asahi:** STOP IT

[16:39] **Asahi:** HOME

 _[16:40]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Ugh you're impossible_

 _[16:40]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _But okay. Home_

 _[16:41]_ **_Suga-Mama:_ ** _Ily <3 _

[16:41] **Asahi:** Love you

 

 _[20:42]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Asahi!!!!! :D_

[20:42] **Asahi:** Hello :)

[20:43] **Asahi:** How are you?

[20:44] **Asahi:** (Btw your note sent me to the grave. I am messaging you from the beyond)

 _[20:46]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I’m sooooo tiredddddd DX_

 _[20:46]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I just got off my double and I’m dead oh boy_

 _[20:47]_ **_Noya:_ ** _(Unfortunate ;P)_

 _[20:47]_ **_Noya:_ ** _(What's the beyond like???)_

[20:48] **Asahi:** Oh no! I’m so sorry :( :(

[20:48] **Asahi:** (Eerily similar to a mediocre apartment and horrid 90s anime)

 _[20:49]_ **_Noya:_ ** _(DEAD)_

 _[20:50]_ **_Noya:_ ** _(No pun intended)_

 _[20:51]_ **_Noya:_ ** _It’s okay!!!_

 _[20:51]_ **_Noya:_ ** _It was just really slow after you left cuz like_

 _[20:52]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I couldn’t think about anything else I was just so stinkin happy it was ridiculous_

 _[20:52]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Kiyoko also would NOT stop giving me shit about it smh_

 _[20:52]_ **_Noya:_ ** _And the clock moved sooooo slowwwwwly because all I wanted to do was text you_

 _[20:53]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Is that weird?_

 _[20:53]_ **_Noya:_ ** _If it is can we blame it on the exhaustion XD_

[20:54] **Asahi:** It isn’t weird at all :)

[20:55] **Asahi:** I've been basically vibrating off the sofa since I got home waiting for you :)

[20:56] **Asahi:** It’s taken us a while to get here so

[20:56] **Asahi:** I think being excited is understandable :) :) :)

 _[20:57]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Asahiiiiii_

[20:58] **Asahi:** Noyaaaaaa

[20:58] **Asahi:** What is it?? ;)

 _[20:59]_ **_Noya:_ ** _WHY ARE YOU SO_

 _[20:59]_ **_Noya:_ ** _UGH_

[20:59] **Asahi:** Uh

[21:00] **Asahi:** I don't know how to respond to that XD

 _[21:01]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Just why are you so…_

 _[21:01]_ **_Noya:_ ** _This way_

[21:02] **Asahi:** What is “this way”???

 _[21:03]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Fucking_

 _[21:03]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Cute and sassy and genuine all at the time you must be exhausted_

[21:04] **Asahi:** Nope

[21:04] **Asahi:** You need to stop right now

[21:05] **Asahi:** I will actually die or combust (actual combust not like an engine) if you continue

[21:06] **Asahi:** So

[21:06] **Asahi:** Cease

[21:06] **Asahi:** Desist

 _[21:08]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Welp. I guess I'll have to be okay dating a bonfire then because that ain't gonna happen sorry XD_

 _[21:09]_ **_Noya:_ ** _If you wanna board the Yuu express your payment is me complimenting the fuck out of you 24/7_

[21:10] **Asahi:** X//////

 _[21:10]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Oops :) :) ;)_

 _[21:11]_ **_Noya:_ ** _OH SHIT_

[21:11] **Asahi:** Eh???? Something wrong??

 _[21:12]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I just,_

 _[21:13]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Am a fucking_

 _[21:13]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Incompetent sometimes dear god I'm sorry_

[21:14] **Asahi:** A of all, false

[21:15] **Asahi:** B of all, I see nothing for you to apologize over

 _[21:15]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I just fucking implied that we're dating_

 _[21:16]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I'm really sorry I need to think before I speak (text???) goddamn_

 _[21:16]_ **_Noya:_ ** _We haven't even gone on a date yet I fucking_

 _[21:17]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Am really sorry I didn't mean to assume anything you can forget that message_ forever

_[21:19]_ **_Noya:_ ** _See???_

 _[21:19]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Now it's gone_

 _[21:20]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Woosh woosh you fucking shit head Noya_

[21:21] **Asahi:** I mean

[21:21] **Asahi:** I'd really like to not forget it if that's okay with you?

 _[21:22]_ **_Noya:_ ** _For real???? :O_

[21:22] **Asahi:** Yeah :)

[21:22] **Asahi:** I'd like to be dating you :)

[21:24] **Asahi:** Kinda feels like we've been trying to do that for a while now anyway? Unless that's just me

 _[21:24]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Absolutely not_

 _[21:25]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Not just you I mean. I'd very much so like to be dating you as well :) :)_

[21:25] **Asahi:** :D

 _[21:26]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Although since I haven't actually properly courted you yet there's no pressure_

 _[21:27]_ **_Noya:_ ** _If you hate the way I romance people then you can totally break it off and we can be friends. 0 commitment needed for this date_

[21:27] **Asahi:** Well that's… thank you

[21:27] **Asahi:** (courting me I SWOONED)

[21:28] **Asahi:** And

[21:29] **Asahi:** If you haven't figured out already I am Anxiety™ so regularity is very much so important to me

[21:29] **Asahi:** Me craving that commitment and steady relationships

_[21:31]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I AM ACTUALLY DEAD RN_

[21:31] **Asahi:** :P

 _[21:32]_ **_Noya:_ ** _BLEP_

[21:32] **Asahi:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 _[21:33]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Jesus christ_

 _[21:33]_ **_Noya:_ ** _You're so good Asahi I'm way too smitten for my own good_

[21:34] **Asahi:** I kind of am too

[21:35] **Asahi:** Also the commitment thing applies to you fully as well

[21:35] **Asahi:** You've only ever seen me in public just wait until I'm in private

[21:36] **Asahi:** The amount of Pure Awkwardness™ might send you to the ER

 _[21:37]_ **_Noya:_ ** _BWAHAHAHA XD XD_

[21:38] **Asahi:** Shiitttt

 _[21:38]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Oh god what_

[21:39] **Asahi:** I cannot believe this

 _[21:40]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I'm nervous what is it??? :O_

[21:41] **Asahi:** I picked up that damn trademark thing from you goddammit

 _[21:42]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I will not apologize for Comedy™_

[21:42] **Asahi:** I hate this -_-

 _[21:43]_ **_Noya:_ ** _As long as you don't hate me I'm okay with that_

[21:44] **Asahi:** Do people hate you????

 _[21:44]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Oh yeah plenty of times_

[21:45] **Asahi:** Noya you are a human puppy

[21:46] **Asahi:** You're so kind and friendly how would anyone hate you

 _[21:47]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Awwwwwww omg you got me blushing so hard rn D///////X_

[21:47] **Asahi:** I bet that's adorable :)

 _[21:47]_ **_Noya:_ ** _STOPPPP_

[21:48] **Asahi:** Uh-uh that's not fair

[21:49] **Asahi:** If I have to be subjected to compliments so do you XP

 _[21:50]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I have no valid argument other than that's stupid and I hate it_

[21:51] **Asahi:** :D :D

 _[21:52]_ **_Noya:_ ** _XP_

 _[21:53]_ **_Noya:_ ** _So now that that circle of hell has been crossed_

[21:53] **Asahi:** God XD XD

 _[21:54]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Can we talk labels?_

 _[21:55]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Just cuz I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable_

 _[21:55]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Like call you my boyfriend before the first date_

 _[21:55]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I'm not a U-haul gay I swear_

 _[21:56]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Usually_

 _[21:56]_ **_Noya:_ ** _You're not my “usually” though_

 _[21:57]_ **_Noya:_ ** _HOOOOOLLLY SHIT_

 _[21:57]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Nishinoya needs to calm the fuck down I'm sorry_

[21:59] **Asahi:** Noya, this might be the first time I, the apology master, have ever had to say this to someone but you don't need to keep saying sorry for stuff like that

 _[22:01]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Ugh okay I'll try it's just really fast for me to be saying those things_

 _[22:02]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I don't want you to feel pressured into anything just cuz I'm basically bouncing off the walls with excitement_

[22:02] **Asahi:** Is it fast though?

[22:03] **Asahi:** Isn’t this what all my time in the café has led up to?

[22:04] **Asahi:** Those might not have been “dates” but they definitely weren’t platonic

[22:04] **Asahi:** I don't need an official date to know how I feel

[22:05] **Asahi:** Which is big and important

 _[22:05]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Death has come upon me_

 _[22:06]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I know for sure because no one on earth is allowed to be as happy as I am right now :D_

[22:07] **Asahi:** :) :) :)

[22:08] **Asahi:** Let’s make a deal

[22:08] **Asahi:** If our date goes well, I’ll be your boyfriend, and you can be mine

[22:09] **Asahi:** Sound acceptable?

 _[22:10]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Excellent idea  :D_

 _[22:11]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Now we have to figure out what we’re doing!!!_

 _[22:11]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Any ideas???_

[22:13] **Asahi:** Not one XD

 _[22:14]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Hmmmm okay well what’s your ideal first date then???_

[22:15] **Asahi:** Oh dear

[22:15] **Asahi:** I’m not sure, I haven’t been on a date in a while :/

[22:18] **Asahi:** Something low-key? Preferably quiet and not crowded

 _[22:19]_ **_Noya:_ ** _No problem!!!_

 _[22:20]_ **_Noya:_ ** _How would you feel about meeting at my place? I could cook for you :) :)_

 _[22:21]_ **_Noya:_ ** _My loud ass roommates shouldn't be here XD_

[22:22] **Asahi:** That's so sweet of you are you sure??

 _[22:23]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Absolutely!!! I love cooking :D_

 _[22:24]_ **_Noya:_ ** _What kinds of food do you like???_

[22:26] **Asahi:** Honestly anything as long as it isn't too too spicy

 _[22:26]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Can do!!! How does a light curry sound???_

[22:27] **Asahi:** That sounds really nice :) :)

 _[22:27]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Woohoo!!! :D Okay so curry at my place?_

 _[22:27]_ **_Noya:_ ** _I can send you my address :)_

[22:28] **Asahi:** Okay! :)

[22:28] **Asahi:** When would you like to get together?

 _[22:29]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Ooooo well I’m off this Saturday?? If that works??_

[22:30] **Asahi:** Sure!! I could come by around 7 or so?

 _[22:31]_ **_Noya:_ ** _That sounds perfect!!!_

 _[22:31]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Will I see you in the shop before then??? :D_

[22:32] **Asahi:** Of course :)

 _[22:33]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Hell yeah!!!_

 _[22:33]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Okay I’mma go pass out now_

 _[22:34]_ **_Noya:_ ** _Night Asahi!!!_

[22:35] **Asahi:** Night Noya :)

***

When Asahi came into the café the following Monday, Noya was expecting everything to be different. Until their date, they were sort of existing in a weird state of un-definition. While Noya was fine with this, he had a feeling that it might make Asahi uncomfortable.

To his very delighted surprise, everything felt basically the same. The only difference was that Asahi seemed a bit more comfortable with overt flirting. More “accidental” brushes of the hand, more coy winking, more compliments and definitely more blushing on both sides of the bar. Kiyoko—who had decided to take up residence most days in Noya’s apartment even though she was also definitely not his roommate—teased him mercilessly about how he seemed to be wearing what she referred to as a “permanent sunburn” on his cheeks when Asahi was there.

Apart from that, though, it was business as usual. He tried not to bring the date up all week, not wanting to make Asahi anxious (or any more anxious than he probably already was). All of his excitement was therefore exerted by spending nearly every single second he was at home babbling to his roommates about all the minute details of his interactions with Asahi. He knew, he was sure that they were probably beyond sick of hearing about it by now but he couldn’t stop.

He just liked Asahi so much.

The Saturday of their date, Noya was trying not to actively vibrate right out of his skin with excitement. His apartment was an absolute madhouse all afternoon, thank god, or he would have lost his jinkies.

Oikawa was visiting from Kyoto, because he had some sort of business gala or some shit in town for his major that night. Iwaizumi was accompanying him, much to his irritation. Kuroo had been recruited to help them dress appropriately, and Noya and Bokuto are delegated to the sidelines. Noya didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying anyway—lots of boring things about “networking” and “versatility”—but it sounded extremely important.

“Iwa-chaaaannn!” Oikawa ended up half-yelling, half-whining from Bokuto’s bedroom after nearly an hour of arguing about the proper outfitting for a black-tie event. “Kuroo-chan says it’s the Oxfords, not the Derbies!”

“What the hell are they talking about?” Bokuto asked exasperatedly from beside Noya on the sofa.

“Shoes, I think,” Noya replied with a shrug. “They’re definitely gonna be late if they don’t get their asses in gear.”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get your ass in gear, Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi shouted back as if reading Noya’s mind.

Noya and Bokuto were snickering to one another when Iwaizumi walked out of his room. He was still fiddling with his cuffs, lip curled up in frustration, but hot damn Noya couldn’t deny that he cleaned up nice. Oikawa sauntered out of Bokuto's room not a moment later, Kuroo trailing behind him with a self-satisfied smile. Rightfully so too, because Oikawa was dressed so exquisitely Noya and Bokuto both whistled in unison. Oikawa paid them no mind other than to smirk and give the slightest toss of his hair.

He came to stand by Iwaizumi, still fiddling with his sleeve. Seeing them side-by-side was infuriating because no couple should look _that nice_ together.

“Are you finally ready?” Iwaizumi growled exasperatedly.

“Iwa-chan is so testy,” Oikawa said lightly. “We aren't late yet, are we?”

“No but we will be if you don't hurry your dumb ass up.”

“I guess we better get going then!” Oikawa chirped, ushering Iwaizumi out the door. “Bye bye Kuroo-chan ! Bokkun! Have a good date Nishi-chan and use protection as long as it isn't mine!”

Noya just rolled his eyes as Iwa muttered something indiscernible but undeniably bitter under his breath. The minute the door closed behind them, Kuroo sighed dramatically and flopped onto the sofa, leaning heavily into Bokuto's shoulder.

“You'd think for someone so gaudy he'd know how to dress better jesus,” he mumbled grumpily. “Sometimes I hate being in the fashion industry so much I might just start wearing a burlap sack so no one will ever ask me for advice ever again.”

“Isn't burlap all the rage right now?” Bokuto teased. Kuroo groaned even louder.

“On a happier note,” Bokuto said, patting Kuroo on the head as he turned to Noya, “when is your date coming over again?”

“At seven,” Noya said. He felt like he'd taken about fifty espresso shots as he said it. All of the excitement he'd been repressing during the afternoon exploded to the surface and he was sure he would shoot off into space.

“Oh right,” Kuroo said, leaning up a bit straighter. That endearingly dopey grin stretched across his face as he looked at Noya. “You nervous?”

“A little. Mostly excited though,” Noya grinned.

Kuroo's smile widened. “That's good. Have you told him yet?”

“I—not yet,” Noya admitted.

The fire of excitement in his stomach suddenly turned into a lava pit of dread. His fists clenched on his thighs as he thought.

He'd been meaning to tell Asahi. Really, he had, but it never seemed like the right time. Not something he usually casually slipped into conversation. He wasn't embarrassed by it or anything. He wasn't even that worried about Asahi's reaction. He just… wasn't sure exactly how to do it.

“It hasn't really been important, you know? And like, I know he won't care but still. It hasn't felt right yet.” Noya glanced back up at Kuroo and Bokuto who were both staring at him. His stomach twisted painfully. “Oh god. Should I have done it before he agreed to go on a date with me?”

“Nah, not if it hasn't felt right for you,” Bokuto assured him easily.

“It isn't something you're ever obligated to tell anyone,” Kuroo agreed. “Even in a relationship. It's your business. You tell him when you feel ready.”

“Thanks. That actually makes me feel a bit better.” Noya smiled gratefully at them.

Noya really couldn't have been luckier with the whole random roommate thing. Bokuto and Kuroo had been best friends for forever, and they'd known Iwaizumi since high school. Noya been a little worried that he'd be intruding or have to work to get into their little group but it hadn't been that way at all. They all clicked together like they'd known each other for years. Kiyoko too—who knew Kuroo through her girlfriend and Noya from high school—had become a regular member of the “queer condo”, as Bokuto liked to call it.

It was nice. With Ryuu gone and out of contact most of the time, Noya needed that baseline. They were a little gay family together.

And if and when Asahi was ever ready, Noya knew he'd fit right in too.

“Well, it's about six right now, and you need to get ready because please god don't tell me you're doing this date wearing _that_ ,” Kuroo said with a pretentiously arched brow.

“No, of course not,” Noya said plucking at his t-shirt. “Although I'm not real sure what exactly to wear…”

He grinned at Kuroo, who sighed far too theatrically for the occasion, throwing his hands in the air.

“I swear to god sometimes I think the only reason you keep me around is to dress your incompetent asses.”

“Sure as hell isn't for your sunny personality,” Bokuto beamed. Kuroo just glared at him.

“Come on,” he said with a frown. “Let's get you into something more flattering.”

The three of them made their way into Noya's room, though Bokuto was staying out of the dressing part. Kuroo immediately dove into Noya's closet and surveyed its contents contemplatively.

“Are you looking to get laid tonight?” he asked, flicking through Noya's rather meager selection of shirts.

“Definitely not,” Noya said. Not that he was assuming anything about Asahi's sex life but. Well. He didn't want to assume anything about Asahi's sex life. “Like, I don't want something that'll turn him the hell off or anything but nothing that makes it seem like I'm assuming anything is gonna happen.”

“Of course. Let's see…”

They ended up getting Noya into a pair of deep brown straight-leg jeans that Bokuto said “made his ass sing”, whatever the hell that meant. He also wore a super Noya-ish short-sleeved button up with little popsicles printed all over it that showed off more of his tattoos than Asahi could have seen at the shop. Casual, but still looked like he'd put effort into it.

It was around six forty when Kuroo and Bokuto left for Kuroo's actual apartment for the night. Noya was just about ready to either melt straight into the carpet or blow a fuse from nervous excitement.

“Let us know if you need anything, kay?” Bokuto said as they headed out the door. “Have a good night lil bird!”

Bokuto was probably the only person on the planet who’d be able to get away with calling Noya that. He was just friendly and genuine enough for Noya to let it slide.

Noya spent the next twenty minutes unsure if he'd cry or vomit. He busied himself with starting to prepare dinner, though he knew it wouldn't take that long. The vegetables had been marinating all night in the mild coconut curry sauce (he'd tested it on Oikawa's baby mouth and gotten approval) so all he needed to do was get them cooked.

He dragged the process out as much as he could with a playlist blaring his favorite workout music. He tried not to think too hard about the night and what might happen, but it was impossible. It had been a long, long-ass time since he'd done the whole first date, getting to know you thing. Not since Kiyoko and that was his first year of high school. Thinking about his relationship with Ryuu was completely unhelpful because they'd been basically joined at the hip since middle school, so there wasn't any of that first date awkwardness when they’d started seeing each other.

The only thing keeping him sane was the fact that nothing had ever been awkward with Asahi. There was no doubt that there would be some nervous energy between them, but they both liked each other. A lot. So it would be okay.

Hopefully.

Falling in love was so much fun but it was also very stressful.

He jumped about a foot in the air when a knock came at the door just before seven. Noya’s heart pummeled his sternum but he couldn’t help but beam because of course Asahi was early. It was probably because being late in general made him anxious but Noya liked to think it was because he couldn’t wait to see him.

He took a deep breath before opening the door, praying to the ghost of Freddie Mercury to help him keep his cool. Then, he opened it, and revealed a sight he absolutely had not been prepared for.

Asahi wore his hair in a perfectly messy bun, a few strands hanging casually around his face. He was dressed in a light grey raglan tee with burgundy sleeves—the two buttons at the top of the shirt very much so unbuttoned and revealing the dip of his collarbone—and a pair of medium-wash jeans rolled up past his ankles.

It was casual, which honestly made it worse than if he’d dressed up, because it proved to Noya that Asahi was aggressively attractive no matter what he wore.

He was already blushing when Noya opened the door, hand on the back of his neck, but he smiled the minute he saw Noya.

“Why hello!” Noya greeted ecstatically, hoping to hide the color in his own face behind a wide smile. “Come in, come in! You can leave your shoes by the door.”

“Oh, thank you,” Asahi said.

Asahi shuffled into the house and very delicately took his shoes off by the door. He stood there for a moment, still scratching his neck, looking about as nervous as Noya had ever seen him.

“You can make yourself at home at the table if you'd like, I'm just about done with dinner!” Noya offered, gesturing towards the low table in the middle of their meagerly furnished yet somehow cluttered living room. The clutter was mostly Noya and Bokuto, who were both often too lazy to put things back where they belonged. It wasn’t uncommon for shoes, socks, textbooks, bottles, video games, sewing products, and dishwear to be scattered everywhere.

They’d managed to clean up most of it that afternoon, though. Or at least the clothes and anything having to do with food. There were still a fair amount of textbooks and for some reason Kuroo’s sewing machine.

“Sorry for the mess,” Noya called over his shoulder from the kitchen. “We actually cleaned up a lot, if you can believe it.”

“Oh no, it’s completely fine, you should see my apartment,” Asahi assured him.

“Yeah?” Noya asked as he dished up their food.

“Yeah, Suga is great but he’s an absolute slob. Daichi isn’t a whole lot better honestly.”

Noya laughed. He took a moment to gather his wits, to take some deep breaths because holy hell Asahi was hot, and holy hell he was on a _date_ with _Asahi_ , and holy hell what did he _do_ on a first date?

Dinner first. Just serve dinner.

He came into the living room a moment later, arms piled high with plates of rice and curry, and two glasses of water. Asahi’s eyes widened in alarm and he scrambled for a moment like he was trying to get to his feet.

“Noya, oh my gosh do you—”

“Nope!” Noya twittered. “I work in food, I got this.”

Asahi stayed seated, but worry ridged his face and his body looked tense. It wasn’t until after Noya expertly set down all of their food safely that he unwound a little. Asahi unwinding usually came with a deep exhale and the absolute best little mini-smile in the world.

They settled in beside each other, cross-legged, with Noya dishing themselves up plenty of food.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. There was a bit of uncertainty for the first time Noya could remember, a bit of actual, honest-to-god mutual awkwardness. With no one else around and no bar between them, all physical and social boundaries were gone, leaving them exposed. There weren’t really any rules for what they _couldn’t_ do now that they were alone, but there also weren’t any rules for what they _could_ do.

Noya tried to keep a bit of distance between them, no matter how badly he wanted to reach out and touch Asahi’s hand or tuck his stray hairs behind his ear. He wanted Asahi to be comfortable.

Especially because right now, Asahi looked about as comfortable as a plank of wood. He looked down at his plate, blowing gently on it to cool it off, back rigid and legs tucked in a tense pretzel beneath him. His cheeks had moved beyond pink at this point to spread blush all over his face, down his neck and beneath his shirt.

His shirt. God, he looked strong...

_Stow that thirsty thought away for later, you queer shit._

“I had my roommate’s boyfriend try the curry to see if it was too spicy and he was okay with it so I hope it’s alright for you,” Noya ended up blurting instead, in a jumble that sounded much more coherent in his head.

“I’m okay with a bit of spice,” Asahi said quietly, still not looking at Noya. “Suga likes to dump hot sauce or chili powder over just about everything so I’m sure this will be fine.”

“Oh god, that sounds intense,” Noya chuckled lamely. “Does Daichi like it that way too?”

“Not really, Daichi has about the same tolerance as I do so we basically ban Suga from the kitchen unless he’s baking.” Asahi let out a breath that definitely could have been a chuckle. The thin wave of his lips quirked up ever so slightly at the edges, and he looked a bit, just a bit, more at ease.

 _Questions_ , Noya reminded himself. _Asahi does well with questions_.

“Did you tell Suga and Daichi about our date?” Noya asked casually, starting to shovel some food into his mouth to let Asahi know it was okay to eat.

“I did, yeah,” Asahi nodded. “They were… well. To say that Suga was beside himself when I got home would be an understatement.”

Noya laughed—a bit loud, a bit forced—but it made Asahi actually laugh for the first time since he’d gotten to Noya’s apartment so it was very worth it.

“Daichi was even excited,” Asahi said, unprompted this time. “It’s been a little while since I’ve been on a date so they were really rooting for us.”

“My roommates were pretty stoked for this too,” Noya grinned, raising a mouthful of curry to his lips. “Please, eat!”

Asahi nodded and scooped up some of his curry. He gave one more cautious blow and Noya couldn’t help watch nervously, like his fate rested on the end of that spoon. Asahi slipped it past his lips, chewed for a moment, and Noya gnawed on his lip. There was just a beat, and then Asahi’s eyes closed, all the tension in his face flowing into the most relaxed expression Noya had yet to see on him. He swallowed, turned to Noya, and smiled.

Noya’s heart stopped for a good few seconds.

“This is delicious,” Asahi complimented, lifting another spoonful in the air like a toast.

Noya was sure he couldn’t have smiled wider if he tried.

They talked through the rest of dinner, just like they had every day at the café. It felt so natural Noya forgot for a moment that this was their first real date, that they hadn’t known each other for years at this point.

The only difference was that now they sat close to each other; now there was no countertop keeping Noya from reaching out and actually touching him. It would be so easy to reach out and take Asahi’s hand, lace their fingers together and hold him. Asahi’s hands were broad and calloused, like Noya’s but bigger, and he wanted so desperately to know what it felt like to intertwine them.

Noya didn’t touch him, though. He was impatient, he was wanting, but Asahi was worth the wait. He’d take everything at Asahi’s pace, however slow that might be.

“You and your roommates seem extremely close,” Asahi commented when they finished dinner, leaning back on his hands and looking Noya in the eye without hesitance. “You just met them this year, didn’t you?”

Asahi had relaxed so much over the course of the evening. The way he held himself, with his shoulders wide open and his legs stretched under the table, made Noya blissfully happy. He was starting to take up space. Noya wanted him to take up more space, all the space he could in Noya’s life.

But this was good for now.

“Just before school started,” Noya said with a nod. “But I feel like I’ve known them for forever. They’re so cool, and we all click really well. Kinda… kinda reminds me of us.”

Noya looked at Asahi nervously. He was testing the waters, trying to see how comfortable Asahi was with everything.

“Yeah,” Asahi agreed immediately. “I feel… like I’ve known you for a lot longer than I actually have.”

Asahi looked over at Noya, eyes gentle and calm. He seemed a little nervous, but not hesitant. One of his hands slid across the carpet, inching towards Noya’s. Noya’s heart stuttered out of control, but he mirrored Asahi’s movements. Asahi paused when their hands were millimeters apart and for some reason this felt so monumental Noya forgot to breathe for a second.

“Can I… can I touch you?” Asahi asked breathlessly.

“Please,” Noya nodded. “Please do.”

Asahi shifted, covering Noya’s hand in his and lacing their fingers together. They were both trembling, both blushing furiously, both equally nervous. It was so warm, heat creeping up his arm and spreading into his chest. Noya scooted closer on the floor, and when Asahi didn’t move away, he pressed their thighs together. He traced the lines of Asahi’s lips, parting his own, leaning in.

“Are you… do you want to—”

A loud, annoying series of loud blaring bells shrieking out of his phone interrupted him.

Well, shit.

“Dammit, I’m sorry,” Noya said, leaning forward to shut off the alarm. “I—”

Noya paused. This would be the perfect time to tell Asahi. There really was no reason not to.

Except that the words didn’t come out like he wanted to.

“I’ll be right back. Bathroom.”

Okay, what the fuck?

Asahi didn’t question it though. He looked a little disappointed when Noya got to his feet, when the heat pulsing through both of them through their hands disappeared, but he didn’t say anything other than, “Okay. I’ll be here.”

Noya smiled apologetically and left him, the slightest pang of guilt stuttering his heart back into a vaguely regular beat. He had to go take care of himself, though. It would be easier to explain when he was done.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

***

Asahi missed Noya’s heat the moment he moved away. It was okay, though, because his warmth remained, coursing through Asahi’s body and making him feel like the sun in Noya’s eyes was warming him from the inside out. They’d touched.

They’d _held hands_.

Noya had almost _kissed_ him.

He was floating on air, so deliriously happy he was sure he’d float away if his legs weren’t firmly tucked beneath the table. This was the absolute best first date Asahi could have asked for. He was falling so fast it had to be illegal but he wasn’t afraid. Nervous maybe, but not afraid.

He took out his phone to pass the time, and to try to settle some of the anxious energy still vibrating through him. He scrolled absently through Facebook, heart fluttering. He was trying his best not to catastrophize. He told himself that if he could just keep his anxiety in check everything would be fi—

_BANG!_

Asahi jumped so hard his phone fell to the table with a clatter. The noise sounded like it had come from Noya's bedroom.

“Noya?” Asahi called in a trembling voice down the hall.

Nothing.

Chest heaving as panic seized his whole body, Asahi got to trembling feet. He felt extremely awkward walking alone through Noya's apartment, so he shouted for Noya again, just to make sure.

No response.

It could very well have been that Noya simply didn’t hear him. Asahi didn’t have a particularly loud voice and all of the doors were closed, so it was likely that it simply wasn’t reaching him.

But why would Asahi think of the most likely situation, when it was obviously so much better to imagine Noya laying on the floor unconscious being crushed under a bookshelf or a cabinet or otherwise incapacitated and unable to answer, probably losing a lot of blood, probably concussed and needing immediate medical attention…

Asahi trod tentatively down the hall and into Noya’s bedroom. It was about as messy as Asahi expected it would be—clothes strewn all over the floor, a stack of cups on his bedside table, a few other unidentifiable objects here and there. But no Noya.

“Noya?” Asahi said again, peering into the open bathroom.

He froze before he even stepped a foot inside.

Noya was standing there, pants down past his knees, and he was _jabbing a fucking needle into his thigh_.

Asahi’s knees went weak. All of the blood rushed from his head into his surging stomach, leaving him nauseous and dizzy and unable to breathe.

“I’m—” Asahi didn’t know what to say. Noya was staring at him, wide-eyed with the syringe still sticking out of his body like a big, needle-y parasite.

Asahi didn’t finish his sentence. He turned on his heel and stumbled out of the doorway. He placed a hand over his mouth to keep himself from actively vomiting, barely able to stay upright. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. His vision was going spotty, unable to think, unable to process anything at all.

His knees hit Noya’s bedframe and he fell forward in a crumpled ball onto Noya’s mattress. He shut his eyes, tried to breathe, swallowing continuously so he didn’t throw up all over Noya’s floor.

A creak of the bedsprings jostled his stomach, but it was soothed at once by a gentle hand on Asahi’s back.

“Are you okay?” he heard Noya say.

Asahi gulped. He nodded, shakily pushing himself upright until he sat with his legs dangling off the bed. He felt light-headed, but a few deep breaths through his nose helped quell his nausea.

“Are you… what…”

“It’s okay,” Noya soothed, rubbing gentle circles on Asahi’s back. “It’s just my HRT.”

“HRT?” Asahi managed to ask.

“Hormone replacement therapy,” Noya clarified with a shaky, completely unconvincing smile. “My testosterone.”

Asahi blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Noya didn’t offer anything else. For the first time in their relationship Asahi thought he might sense something similar to actual fear in Noya’s trembling lips.

“So you…you…”

“I’m trans, yes.”

Noya’s voice was tight. Even as he tried to keep his posture as casual as possible, Asahi saw tension grip his entire body. He was sitting up too straight, his fingers too grating on Asahi’s back. Asahi was having a hard time speaking but he forced himself to, because it was physically painful to see Noya so uncomfortable.

“That isn’t… that isn’t what I meant. I meant to ask why you’re stabbing it into your thigh.”

Noya visibly flinched backwards, like the surprise of the question struck a physical blow.

“Uh…I have to?” he said uncertainly, brows drawing together. “I mean, I guess I don’t _have_ to. I could go to the doctor or something if I really wanted to. I just… this is how I do it.”

“Okay.”

Asahi nodded again and swallowed, his nausea starting to fade a little. He was still a little wobbly.

Noya tilted his head to the side. “Are you okay, Asahi?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll just…warn me next time? I’m not…not good with needles.”

“Yeah, yeah of course. But that isn’t really what I meant,” Noya said, eyes still trained on Asahi’s face, like he was trying to read the emotion threaded through the furrowed hairs of his brow. “I meant… Are you okay? With this?”

“With… with you stabbing yourself with a needle?” Asahi asked confusedly. “I mean… it isn’t my favorite idea but it’s fine if—”

“No, Asahi,” Noya interrupted. “No. I’m asking if you’re okay with me. Being trans. Being a trans man. Are you okay with that?”

Asahi’s whole face scrunched up in surprise. “Yes. Of course. Why is that even a question?”

Noya exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath for the past five minutes. He collapsed forward, and Asahi flinched to stop his fall but he caught himself with his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands and made a noise—a sob or a laugh, Asahi couldn’t tell.

“Oh my god,” he said into his palms. “This…is not how I planned this conversation to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Asahi said, guilt swirling like slime in his stomach.

Noya looked up from his hands. His eyes were dry, so at least he wasn’t crying. “Why on earth are you sorry?”

“I should have knocked or something. I just, I heard a really loud crash and then I called for you and you didn’t answer,” Asahi mumbled, looking at the space between Noya’s eyes.

Noya chuckled a little. “No, this isn’t your fault at all. I’m the one who left the door open. And I knocked a basket of stuff off the counter so. I should be more careful.”

“It isn’t your fault either.”

Noya shrugged. He inhaled deeply, rubbing his hands together and sitting up a little straighter.

Asahi didn’t know what to do or say. He felt like he should comfort Noya somehow—a hand on the shoulder, or on his thigh or his hand. That seemed wrong, though, touching him right now. But Asahi couldn’t think of any words of comfort either.

He felt useless, sitting there with his hands twisting in knots in his lap, waiting for Noya to say something.

“Does this…change anything? About us, I mean,” Noya finally asked with a long, drawn-out exhale.

“No, no of course not Noya,” Asahi said quickly. “Unless you want it to change I don’t… I care, of course, but I don’t… it doesn’t _matter_ , if that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Noya nodded. “Yeah it makes sense. I just…yeah.”

Noya’s eyes fell into his lap, where his fingers were tangling together. He looked so distressed Asahi wanted nothing else than to wrap Noya up in his arms and kiss him until he was smiling.

But this didn’t seem like the most appropriate time for a first kiss, so he stayed put.

“Are you okay?” Asahi asked.

Noya nodded without looking up. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” Asahi said, gently but firmly. “You don’t have to tell me but I’d… I’d like to know.”

Noya nodded again, then shook his head. A small, bitter smile twitched at the corner of his mouth and Asahi _hated_ it.

“I just… it’s hard. I feel like I really freaked you out. And… I’m used to getting pretty bad reactions so.” Noya looked up. There was sourness written all over his face.

Asahi bobbed his head. He understood, even if it wasn’t quite the same. He understood because he knew what it was like for someone’s friendship to feel like philanthropy.

“I understand,” Asahi said. “I mean… not the same obviously but like… people lie to me about how they feel about my anxiety all the time. So I understand… the uncertainty.”

“Yeah,” Noya said. His face softened a little bit, and his smile lost some of the harshness. “Yeah, you do. You get it.”

Noya exhaled heavily again. He leaned back on his hands on the bed, kicking out his feet and staring at the ceiling. “You responded a lot better than some people have.”

“I have?” Asahi asked.

“Yeah. Much better. I… have had people storm out on me. During sex, too.”

Asahi nodded to let Noya know that he understood, though his insides flared angrily.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve that.”

Noya looked to the side at Asahi. His smile widened just a bit more.

“Thank you. It definitely sucks but like… it doesn’t really matter.” Noya’s hand inched across the bedspread toward Asahi’s. He hooked their pinkies together and his smile grew into something much brighter, much more familiar to Asahi. The heat that had drawn them together before ignited again as they touched. “You know, as long as you don’t care, none of that shit matters.”

“Of course I don’t care,” Asahi assured. “It’s just… it’s… it’s like...”

Asahi fought for the words. It was hard to explain because Asahi obviously _did_ care. It was a part of Noya’s life, and Asahi cared about anything that was a part of Noya’s life. But it didn’t _matter_ because it was just a part of who Noya was, but Asahi didn’t want to say it didn’t matter because that made it sound like Asahi was disregarding it.

“It matters to me as much as you'd like it to,” Asahi eventually negotiated with himself. “Like, we can talk about it every day if you want or I can never mention it again. It's a part of you, so, it matters to me as much as you want it to matter to me. To us. Does… that doesn't make any sense does it? I'm sorry. I don't—”

“Asahi,” Noya interrupted gently, lips turned upwards again, “it's okay. I get it. I understand.”

“Okay,” Asahi sighed in relief. “Sometimes I have thoughts that don't come out very well so. I apologize.”

“You're so fine honestly. And like… I get you. I mean to me it's… it's a part of who I am but it isn't… it's not necessarily something I need everyone to know. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed or anything but at the end of the day I'm just… I'm just a dude with some parts people say don't usually belong to dudes. Is kind of how I see it anyway.”

Noya tilted his head to the side, that beautiful smile spreading across his whole face and making Asahi absolutely swoon. “Thanks again for being so… well. You, about it. I promise I was going to tell you I just hadn’t figured out how yet. I knew you wouldn’t be upset or anything but I didn’t want you to feel pressured to react in any sort of way.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Asahi nodded, his own face relaxing pleasantly. “You’re never obligated to share anything with me. And no matter what you say I can basically promise it won’t change how I feel.”

Noya’s face split into an ear-to-ear grin. “Same here Asahi.”

His hand moved to completely cover Asahi’s, lacing their fingers together. His beaming smile faded just a bit as he shifted closer to Asahi on the bed. Their eyes were locked together and Asahi was certain Noya could hear his heart wrestling with his ribs. Flush crept all over his body as Noya leaned close, close enough that their thighs brushed together again and he could feel Noya’s breath on his face.

Noya reached up to brush an errant lock of hair out of Asahi’s eyes. His hand slid down his cheek, and the gentle glide of calloused fingers caused goosebumps to erupt all over Asahi’s body. He definitely stopped breathing.

Noya’s fingers trailed through Asahi’s scruff, coming to rest with Asahi’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Can I kiss you, Asahi?” he asked, confident and breathless.

Asahi nodded vigorously, and Noya didn’t waste a single second in pressing their lips firmly together.

Noya’s lips were a little dry, a little cracked, but soft and pliant and sure. It was short, far too short, but Noya’s face was bright with blush as he pulled away. He was only centimeters away from Asahi still, eyes searching Asahi’s face.

“Can I… can we do more?” he asked. Asahi nodded again, and a sigh of something close to relief ghosted over Asahi’s mouth before Noya was kissing him again.

This time, Noya didn’t hesitate to run his tongue over Asahi’s lower lip. A shiver wracked Asahi body, and Noya’s sharp inhale stole all of the breath out of his lungs. Asahi could taste coffee and sugar, bittersweet just like Noya, and he thought he might like to taste nothing else ever again.

When they broke apart this time, they were both breathing far too hard for a kiss that modest to warrant. Asahi didn’t care. Their hands were tangled together on the bed, gripping hard. Noya’s hand had moved to cradle Asahi’s jaw and Asahi’s was resting in a fist on Noya’s thigh. There was a gleam in Noya’s eyes and Asahi couldn’t imagine a better feeling in the world than knowing he put it there.

“Does this… does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” Noya asked with a cheeky grin.

“Absolutely,” Asahi smiled, and kissed him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) and [foxyena](http://foxyena.tumblr.com) for editing!
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	7. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Asahi, you look really nice today,” Ennoshita said emphatically, grinning like the little devil he was right at Noya, who was glaring back with betrayingly pink cheeks.
> 
> “Oh, thank you,” Asahi said, thankfully redder than Noya as he scratched his neck.
> 
> Ennoshita snickered behind the whipped cream cannister and Noya tried to burn his annoyance into the back of Ennoshita’s head.
> 
> Before Noya could say anything back, though, the bell over the door rang and the door slammed open with a bang and a very familiar “Hey, Nishi!”
> 
> “Oh no,” Noya whispered, blood going cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took 1 billion years but a lot happens so maybe it makes up for it????

“Noyaaaaaa! When do we get to meet your boyfriend?”

Noya had barely stepped out of his bedroom when Bokuto started whining at him. He was sitting at their bar, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and way too excitable for a pre-caffeinated Noya.

Noya sighed heavily and sat at their bar beside Bokuto regardless. It had been like this almost every day anyway so it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Noya and Asahi had been officially dating for all of two weeks and Bokuto had said that exact sentence with that exact inflection every single time Noya had seen him since their first date.

Every. Single. Time.

Noya knew it came from a place of care and friendly protectiveness but that didn't stop it from being a little annoying. 

“Let him live, Bo,” Kuroo cut in. “He’s still honeymooning, give him time.” 

Kuroo was in the kitchen, whistling to himself and making eggs for the three of them. In Noya’s apartment. Where he didn’t live.

If Kuroo wasn't so stellar at making eggs (something Noya was mediocre with at best) he'd ask him to pay some damn rent. 

Still, this was how most of their mornings went, and even though Kuroo didn’t technically live with them, Noya didn’t at all mind having him around. Kuroo would walk the few blocks between their apartments for breakfast–usually just some rice and toast made by Noya but he’d occasionally spoil them with his eggs–they’d hang out and chat and then go on with their days. 

“Thanks Kuroo,” Noya said as he perched himself on the stool beside Bokuto with his legs hooked around the crossposts so he could swivel himself from side to side. 

Bokuto beside him looked like he’d just woken up: platinum almost-white, and dark brown almost-black hair falling in a mess without his product to tame it. He was probably upswinging today, judging from the way his leg jackhammered against the crossbeam of his stool and he physically bit his lip to keep himself from blurting out of turn. 

Not that he needed to; it wasn’t like Kuroo and Noya gave a flying fuck.

“Listen, he’s important to lil’ bird so he’s important to me,” Bokuto retorted, leg bouncing so hard Noya was afraid it would break the stool. “And I have to make sure he’s a decent guy.”

“What are you, his mother?” Kuroo snickered, expertly flipping the eggs in the pan. 

Bokuto stuck out his lower lip and huffed indignantly. “I'm just saying. We're his best friends and we have yet to give our stamp of approval.”

Kuroo shook his head and started dishing up everyone's breakfast. Noya was biting the inside of his cheek to fight back laughter when Bokuto turned to him. There was a question in his hazel-gold eyes, head tilted to the side like a befuddled animal. 

“We are your best friends, aren't we?” he asked. It was so authentically unsure Noya's heart clenched fondly. 

“Course you are, Kou,” Noya reassured him with a pat on his thigh. “You and Kuroo and Kiyoko. Well, and Ryuu, but he's currently in Spain so.”

Bokuto gave a “whoop” of excitement, bouncing even harder. “Then that's why I want to meet him so bad.”

“Bokuto we’ve been dating for  _ two weeks _ ,” Noya said exasperatedly. “I promise you’ll meet him but Asahi takes time to do things, okay? You’re gonna have to be patient.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Noya saw Kuroo stiffen. He froze with scrambled eggs dangling limply off of a spatula over the stove. “Asahi? That's his name?”

Oh boy. That didn't sound good. 

“Yeah, have I seriously not told you that yet? I swear I had.”

Kuroo shook his head. “Nope. You've been calling him Azumane.”

Noya squinted at Kuroo's back. He was waiting for Kuroo to offer something else, but after a moment his shoulders went slack against and he continued to plate their eggs without further explanation. 

That definitely had Noya worried. 

“Is that name bad or something?”

“Oh no, it's fine,” Kuroo hedged lightly. “It's nothing, I promise.”

With Kuroo it never seemed to be nothing. He was always thinking something, usually something shady or sarcastic, so Noya didn't trust a word. Unfortunately Kuroo didn't offer anything else but a smirk as he handed over Noya and Bokuto's eggs, nor did he bring it up for the rest of the morning. 

Bokuto seemed to have wandered off to another topic too, temporarily forgetting his stubborn desire to meet Asahi. They instead chatted about their upcoming exams and Kuroo's internship at the boutique where he worked downtown. The hours lately had been brutal on him, and his grades were beginning to slide a little bit. It wasn't anything he couldn't recover from—Kuroo was easily one of the smartest people Noya had ever met—but it was going to make his life a lot more stressful in the coming weeks. 

“You should ask Kiyoko if she has time to tutor you,” Noya said as the three of them gathered their things for class and work. “She's not chem but she can help you with calc.”

“I might do that, I'm desperate and diffy-q is like trying to learn a foreign language in that foreign language,” Kuroo lamented. “I just have to pass this exam or I'm beyond fucked.”

“I'll ask her if she's free this week,” Noya said, clapping Kuroo on the back with a grin. Kuroo's mouth slanted and his shoulders slouched as the three of them headed out the door. 

They usually walked to campus together on Wednesdays, when they all had class instead of work and none of them felt the need to bike in. These sorts of routines—the breakfast, the walking together, the morning banter, the general interweaving of their lives—were so ingrained into Noya's being he couldn't remember what it had been like without them. 

Just like Asahi. 

So far, dating Asahi hadn't been much different than flirting with Asahi. Just a little amplified maybe. Or a lot amplified. 

Asahi wasn't as comfortable with PDA as Noya was, which was completely fine of course. If Asahi had wanted Noya would never touch him in public. But he didn't, which was nice; Noya just had to reign it in a bit. 

Asahi liked subtleties, which was something Noya was extremely unaccustomed to. Their body language ran perpendicular to one another in almost every way. Noya would have loved to give him a huge, open-mouthed kiss every time he saw Asahi but Asahi only liked short, rather chaste pecks. Noya's instinct was to maintain a much contact as possible in public, but Asahi liked about a foot of space between them. Noya would have stared at Asahi and gushed over him like an 18th century lovestruck bard, but Asahi liked to keep it a bit more casual. 

This was all so, perfectly fine with Noya, but it had made him much more conscious of his own body and what he was doing with it in relation to others. Which was actually probably a good thing, in the end. 

The one thing where their lines of comfort intersected was hands. Asahi had absolutely no problem whatsoever with hands: hands clasped firmly together as they met up to walk to their classes, hands intertwined as Asahi walked Noya to work, hands brushing at every possible opportunity over the bar, hands in hair and on cheeks and on waists when they had time alone, out of the public eye.

They'd discovered their mutual interest in hands the night of their first date. That blissfully awkward make-out session had lasted for quite some time on Noya's bed. When they realized it wasn't the most ideal place to kiss, they'd relocated to the living room floor. There, they'd had more than enough space for Asahi to drape his legs across Noya's lap and move their hands however they wished. 

“Are you sure I'm not crushing you?” Asahi had asked probably five times before accepting Noya's assurances that his legs wouldn't, in fact, fall off. 

They'd resumed the excellent kissing then, touching with much more freedom. Noya undid Asahi’s bun and combed his fingers through Asahi's impressively thick hair, while his other could never settle on whether it wanted to stroke gently up and down Asahi's thigh, or move to draw circles on the small of his back. Asahi was a bit more tentative at first, and when Noya asked if he was okay with all the touching he'd nodded vigorously and said, “I'm just not sure how.”

Noya had chuckled and showed Asahi how he liked it: one hand on his hip or thigh, the other cupping his cheek or running down his arm. 

They didn't move beyond that, content to kiss each other until both of their lips were raw and chapped. It was oddly slow for Noya, who was never opposed to a good first-date lay, but he didn't mind or even really want anything else. He was so beyond satisfied with however Asahi decided to touch him. 

Besides, there was no rush. Noya could feel for certain that they had plenty of time to explore each other's bodies more intimately in the future. 

One thing Asahi liked to do (and Noya wasn't sure if he was conscious of it or not) regardless of where they were was rub at the bristles of Noya's undercut. It was the texture, Noya assumed, and how fuzzy and soft it was. He didn't mind. He liked the way Asahi's fingers felt in his hair. 

Asahi hadn't stopped coming to the café either. He was there like clockwork, right when he got out of class or Noya started his shift, and he stayed until he had class or another engagement. They lived pretty far apart, so if Asahi did walk with him after work they usually parted about halfway between their apartments. This meant that, unfortunately Noya didn't get a nice walk home at twilight with lots of cheesy romantic smooching but it was unimportant at the moment. Mostly because on Noya's days off  they'd spend the free time almost entirely together, at Asahi's favorite spot on campus. 

“I can't believe I've never been here before,” Noya said the first time Asahi brought him there. 

“Most people don't really know about it,” Asahi said with a smile. “Last year I worked to maintain some of the more delicate documents so that's how I found out about it. It's nice and quiet down here.”

Noya nodded, beaming, as he examined the rows upon rows of shelves containing more maps than Noya knew existed in the world, let alone in the dinky basement of a university building. 

The room was quiet and tucked away, full of history and culture and beauty. There were tables set with some of the oldest maps in the world behind glass, maps that the first seafarers from China and Polynesia and India used. Others were tucked away in scrolls on the shelves, either copies or protected with lamination to keep them from wearing with student use. 

“Do you still come here a lot?” Noya asked, pulling out a booklet with copies of ancient pirating charts. 

“All the time. It's quiet and I like looking at the maps. They… they help.”

Asahi's brow furrowed and he seemed to be struggling to put his thoughts together. He leaned back against one of the tables, gripping at the edge and chewing on his lip. Noya just nodded with a grin. 

Sometimes Asahi had trouble putting his thoughts into words, but Noya was learning to help. He could usually guess what Asahi was thinking and would try to voice them himself. Of course Noya didn't know everything, and most of what he said was from observation and experience with Yachi, but he always tried. It was easier if Asahi knew Noya understood. 

“They've been to so many places and passed through so many hands. Who knows who's touched all of these. They might have traces of people's fingers from hundreds of years ago!” Noya said excitedly and Asahi's body unwound a bit. He nodded in agreement. 

“That's why I like history,” Asahi agreed. “I like to think about all those people and… and to appreciate that they thought these documents were worth enough to handle with care, you know?”

_ I do know,  _ Noya thought a little wryly.  _ And I wonder why people don't see that you're worth enough to handle with care.  _

Thus, they spent a lot of their free time down in that basement. Asahi showed Noya all of his favorite maps and Noya tried to commit every word to his admittedly sketchy memory. He nodded enthusiastically and encouraged Asahi to keep talking, to please god keep  _ smiling _ like he did when they were alone together. 

A comfortable Asahi, in his element and showing off his incredible knowledge of historical artifacts and events, with confidence and squared shoulders and gentle hands, a gleam in his eye and an easy smile, was absolutely the most beautiful, sexiest thing Noya had ever seen. 

It also gave them the opportunity to explore each other's bodies with a bit more freedom. The first time Noya had tried to make out with Asahi for real, standing and pressed firmly between Asahi's legs and letting out little breathy gasps of pleasure, was when one of the other pressing and uncomfortable relationship conversations had come up. 

Noya had insisted that he was fine with talking about it over text, but Asahi's hands were firm on his hips and he'd assured Noya that he was okay talking then as long as Noya was fine with the blushing and the stammering. 

Noya was  _ very _ okay with the blushing. 

“Have you dated before Asahi?” Noya asked with warm cheeks, hands on Asahi's shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Asahi said. “A few times. My friend Suga and I went steady for a while and then—what?”

Asahi stopped and jutted his bottom lip out at Noya tried to hold back laughter. He couldn't stop a little snicker from leaving his mouth, and he felt guilty for laughing and putting that pout on Asahi’s face but who could blame him? Asahi was just so damn cute and dorky and wonderful. 

“It's just… ‘going steady’ isn't a term I've heard in a while that's all. But it isn't bad! It's…”  _ Adorable. _ “Good. Don't change it.”

Asahi blushed, eyes narrowing suspiciously but he continued anyway. “But yeah Suga and I… went steady for a bit. And then I dated this girl Yui for about a year. You?”

“Yeah, I dated Kiyoko my first year of high school and that was a disaster,” Noya laughed. 

“Oh dear, I bet,” Asahi chuckled in reply. 

“Yeah for sure, so that didn't last long. I had a few flings, and then my best friend and I dated for a good while which was  _ awesome.” _

_ “ _ Oh? What ended it?” Asahi asked. His eyes widened immediately and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh god… I'm so sorry I shouldn't have asked that it was so rude…”

“No no no, you're so fine! You're more than allowed to ask shit like that I don't mind at all Asahi!” Noya assured him quickly even though Asahi looked skeptical. 

Noya wanted to say that he didn't mind because he wanted to share his whole life with Asahi, all the parts of his past that were fun and messy and exciting and painful. 

He didn't though, because Noya was still figuring out how much of that mushy-gushy emotional feelings stuff Asahi was okay talking about in person.

“No but the breakup wasn't bad at all,” Noya continued brightly. “Ryuu got drafted to go pro playing rugby right out of high school so it was just too hard with the distance. I don't do distance well. I'm soooooo clingy.”

Asahi snorted and Noya emphasized his statement with a nice, messy kiss, practically flinging himself onto his boyfriend. 

Then, Noya pressed just a bit more, just to clarify the boundaries because Noya would physically throw himself into the garbage if he did something to make Asahi feel uncomfortable especially in regards to more intimate, physical affection. 

“Have you—and you don't need to answer this now if you don't want to okay?—have you been touched? Like… more than just kissing and holding hands kind of touching. I don't care at all, not even a little, I just want to make sure I'm not doing anything that'll make you super anxious and scared.”

Asahi turned the full spectrum of reds possible for the human face, glancing down at his thighs as he answered. 

“It's fine. I… I have. Been touched, I mean.”

“Yeah? Do you like it?” Noya asked as gently as possible. 

Asahi paused, then nodded without looking up. “I… I've done… I've had…”

“Hey, that isn't something to be embarrassed by,” Noya said firmly. “I have too. It's completely fine and I don't care. You could sleep your way through half of Tokyo and I wouldn't give a shit.”

Asahi turned a color Noya didn't know was possible for a person to turn. He looked a tiny, tiny bit reassured but Noya could tell this was something they'd need to file away for later so he redirected. 

“I'll take it as slow as you want, alright?” Noya said cheerfully. “I'm gonna ask every time I do something new and you have every right to stop me and I won't even be a teeny tiny bit upset at all. Even if we're doing something we've already done a million times, you stop me and I'll be nothing but happy that you're being honest, okay?”

Asahi didn't exactly look convinced but he responded with an “okay” and Noya ended the conversation there. 

So Noya took things so slowly they really hadn't moved at all. Apart from the fact that he sometimes wormed between Asahi's legs as Asahi perched on a table, it wasn't any different than when they'd kissed at Noya's apartment. 

Which was perfect. Everything was so new and exciting and made Noya's body respond way, way too much that he was sure anything else at this point would kill him. 

That was what dating Asahi had been like so far. Walks to work, hanging out in the basement, time at the café, a walk back halfway between their apartments. It was… better than Noya had ever dreamed he'd get to feel and experience with another person. 

Asahi might have been consistent but he definitely couldn’t be called boring. Every touch, every kiss, every message and glance and laugh made Noya’s stomach jolt like he was hurtling over the edge of a rollercoaster. He was such a unique, soft person and Noya was absolutely enraptured by nearly everything he did.

Like the morning of Bokuto's little tantrum, when Asahi had the  _ nerve _ , the goddamn  _ audacity _ to waltz his way into Beans wearing a fucking short-sleeved shirt for the first time since Noya had met him: showing off tanned, fuzzy biceps that absolutely had to be illegal to wear in public. 

Noya had to physically keep himself from gawking at Asahi as he shuffled into the open bar seat and sipped on the drink already made and cooling for him. It was ruined a bit by a smirk from dumb Ennoshita (Enno-shit-a as Noya lovingly called him after he took a bemused, taunting interest in Noya's new relationship). 

“Asahi, you look really nice today,” Ennoshita said emphatically, grinning like the little devil he was right at Noya, who was glaring back with betrayingly pink cheeks. 

“Oh, thank you,” Asahi said, thankfully redder than Noya as he scratched his neck. 

Ennoshita snickered behind the whipped cream cannister and Noya tried to burn his annoyance into the back of Ennoshita’s head. 

Before Noya could say anything back, though, the bell over the door rang and the door slammed open with a bang and a very familiar “Hey, Nishi!”

“Oh no,” Noya whispered, blood going cold.

Kuroo and Bokuto burst into the coffee shop, immediately taking up an enormous amount of space. Shoulders squared, mouths stretched wide in matching mischievous grins, they strutted right up to the counter towards the wide-eyed Asahi. It didn’t help that Kuroo was dressed in some sort of greyscale high street fashion, glasses, scarf, cardigan and all: and Bokuto was wearing a shirt with bright-ass pastel triangles plastered all over it. They were downright gaudy.

Even though they greeted Noya first, they sauntered right up to Asahi unflinchingly. The intensity of their eyes and their grins and the sheer amount of space they took up was enough to have Asahi pale like a ghost.

Asahi was so stunned his hand didn’t even make it to the back of his neck. His fists were clenched white-knuckled and trembling against his jeans. His brows were furrowed in a combination of anxiety and confusion and Noya was  _ livid _ .

He was sure his look could kill a man. 

“Hello you two,” Noya said through his teeth with a sickly sweet grin. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it was taking you forever to introduce us to your boyfriend so we figured we might as well introduce ourselves,” Bokuto beamed, throwing himself into the seat beside Asahi. “Heya, I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”

Asahi looked like a hunted rabbit. He was rigid as a plank of wood, eyes as wide as bicycle tires, and Noya wasn’t entirely sure that he was breathing. He stared to the side like he was about to be devoured.

But he wasn’t looking at Bokuto. He was looking at Kuroo hovering over Bokuto’s shoulder. The initial shock seemed to be wearing off a bit but all of Asahi’s attention was directed towards the grinning fashionable tomcat leaning against the bar. There was something other than fear in his eyes, something almost knowing.

“Azumane-san,” Kuroo said with a dip of his head. “I thought it was you that Noya was seeing.”

“K–Kuroo-san,” Asahi muttered, moving only to scrabble at the back of his neck. 

Bokuto and Noya glanced between the two of them in confusion. Kuroo’s grin took up his entire face, Asahi’s eyes were flitting from his lap to Kuroo, and there was a definite familiarity between the two of them.

“Do you two know each other?” Noya asked.

“Oh yes,” Kuroo said slyly. “I dated dear Asahi’s best friend our first year of high school.”

Noya clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping.

“No fucking way,” Bokuto said incredulously. 

“Mmhmm,” Kuroo nodded. He softened a little, as Asahi’s jaw jumped with the force of his gritted teeth.  “We’re still friends but I haven’t seen you all in a while. How is dearest Daichi? He and Sugawara still going disgustingly steady?”

Kuroo’s voice was much quieter, less edged and more relaxed. He leaned against the bar, head cocked to the side with the corners of his eyes crinkling with a more genuine smile. Asahi didn’t calm completely with the change in tone, but at least he was breathing, and his shoulders dropped back to a more natural position.

“He’s doing well,” Asahi said hesitantly. “And yes, they’re… they’re still very happy. We’re all living together, actually.”

“That must be interesting. How third-wheeled are you?” Kuroo asked with a chuckle, completely at ease and unaffected and just about the opposite of Asahi. 

“It isn’t bad. They’re my best friends so they’re not… I mean… it’s fine,” Asahi said, tripping over the end of his sentence. He got a little redder, but Kuroo just dropped his shoulders and flattened his tone even more.

“I remember the three of you being close,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m glad you’re getting along. Living with a couple can be  _ disgusting _ but I feel like you three have a pretty unique relationship.” 

Some more tension wound out of Asahi’s body and he actually smiled, albeit a little shakily. “Yeah. They’re pretty great.”

Noya was still bristling with irritation, but he couldn’t help admiring Kuroo’s sensitivity to Asahi’s body language. It was soothing, sympathetic, like he’d done this before, like the anxiety didn’t bother him whatsoever. 

He was also very curious. As was Bokuto, who swiveled back at forth on his barstool, and watched the two with fascination. 

“You never mentioned this before, Tettsun!” Bokuto squawked cheerfully. “Nishi talks about him all the time, why didn’t you say something?”

“Yuu didn’t use his given name until today,” Kuroo shrugged dismissively. “I don’t like to assume.”

“You assume things all the time!” Bokuto argued, throwing his hands up in the air. 

The two of them dissolved into the sort of disgruntled bickering that usually filled Noya’s apartment. Noya, though, turned his attention back to Asahi–whose eyes were big again, lips slightly parted, hands shoved into his lap. Noya couldn’t tell whether he looked surprised or like he was about to cry. Definitely could have been both.

_ Shit _ , Noya thought in dismay.  _ Asahi must be so anxious and nervous and I am going to  _ kill _ these two men when I get home. _

“Asahi, I’m so sor–”

“You talk about me to your roommates?” Asahi asked softly.

Noya blinked. Was Asahi upset? His brows were creased, the brown in his eyes swimming with some kind of indiscernible emotion, but Noya couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, I do,” Noya admitted, ruffling his undercut. “Is that… should I not do that?”

“No, no it’s…” Asahi said, shaking his head furiously and waving his hands. “No it’s fine. It’s… it’s definitely fine… it’s just… I just…”

Asahi’s mouth opened and closed like his thoughts and words were all knotted together. Noya waited patiently, resting his weight on one leg and trying to look calm and sympathetic. He was beating himself up internally, but he didn’t want Asahi to know that. 

Asahi’s hand was on his neck again, but he didn’t look angry. That was good, right?

Ugh, why was he such a loud-mouthed idiot?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to articulate what I’m thinking,” Asahi apologized, clearly distressed.

“That’s fine,” Noya assured quickly. “That’s completely fine. I just… are you upset with me? That’s all I want to know.”

Asahi shook his head, the look in his eyes nothing but sincere. “I’m definitely not upset. Just… surprised.”

“Nishi literally  _ never _ shuts up about you,” Bokuto said, inviting himself very loudly back into their conversation. “It’s actually kinda gross, how in lo–”

“Bokuto  _ shut up _ ,” Noya said through gritted teeth, glaring at his roommate.

Asahi glanced confusedly between the befuddled Bokuto and his glowering boyfriend. Bokuto’s head fell to the side in his bewilderment but thank god he didn’t say anything else. 

Thankfully, Kuroo had a bit more tact than dear Bokuto and changed the subject to something less paralyzingly embarrassing.

“We just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves because we weren’t sure if Noya was ever going to let us meet you,” Kuroo grinned. “We can get out of your hair now, if you’d like.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” Asahi said a little more comfortably, even managing a slightly trembling smile. 

“We could hang out!” Bokuto offered, returning to his normal level of boundless excitement. “We could go somewhere? Or stay here, whatever makes you the most comfortable Asa–Azumane-san!”

“Asahi is fine. And I’d love to, uh, hang out,” Asahi said kindly. His smile evened out a little and he rested his arm on the bar and Noya exhaled in relief.

He was still probably going to have to kick their asses later, but at least they hadn’t overwhelmed Asahi into a panic attack. 

Then again, Bokuto and Kuroo probably understood Asahi’s brain better than most people. Maybe even better than Noya.

“You know, I’m off in about twenty minutes if you don’t mind waiting around,” Noya suggested, looking very purposefully at Asahi and ignoring his roommates.

Asahi took a moment to think, eyes darting between Noya and the Demon Twins. Yet the lines of his face were fairly smooth, shoulders sloping and unstrained, and other than a bit of nervousness trembling on his lips, he looked reasonably at ease. Unpressured, at the very least.

“Okay,” Asahi agreed. “That… that sounds nice.”

Noya beamed in encouragement, then he pointed firmly at his roommates before they had a chance to say anything.

“You two need to behave yourselves,” he said adamantly. “Don’t be stupid and make him uncomfortable.”

“We would never!” Kuroo said indignantly. He clapped Bokuto on the back and winked at Noya who was still glaring at both of them. “Let’s go find a seat.”

Asahi looked nervous, even as he gave Noya a little half-smile. Noya reached across the bar to squeeze Asahi’s hand, but before he could say anything helpful, Asahi was being swept up by Bokuto and Kuroo and guided to one of the empty tables on the opposite side of the café.

Noya sighed heavily as he returned to making drinks.

He prayed for patience and for the rest of his shift to end quickly.

***

Bokuto and Kuroo were overwhelming in the most endearing way possible. Meeting new people was always enough to induce a heart attack for Asahi, but they made it a little more bearable. His hand still rubbed raw the back of his neck (he really needed to work on that or he wouldn’t have any skin back there for much longer), but didn’t feel the need to run.

There was a familiarity with Kuroo that contributed to Asahi’s slight sense of security. His hooded eyes and permanent smirk gave him an air of sly mystery, but in a very non-threatening way. He was obviously watching closely and analyzing everything but it didn’t feel sinister. It felt sympathetic. Feline, almost.

Bokuto, on the other hand, was like the human embodiment of a firecracker. He was always moving some part of his body–bouncing his leg or wiggling his foot or drumming his fingers on the table–and chattered away like a twittering bird. 

He actually reminded Asahi a little of Noya in energy, but he seemed a little less perceptive and a little more impulsive. Especially as the two of them began to grill him with questions.

The three of them settled into a table near the window as they waited for Noya’s shift to end. The moment they sat down, they started pelting Asahi in questions and Asahi felt like he was being put under a microscope. It didn’t help that they both sat across from him, staring intently.

At least they were friendly about it?

“So Asahi,” Bokuto said, leaning forward with his hands flat on the table, “tell us about yourself.”

“Um… well...  what do you want to know?” Asahi said uncertainly.

“Everything!” Bokuto said in unhelpful excitement. When Asahi grimaced and wrang the back of his neck, Kuroo cut in much more constructively.

“Give us the essentials. You know, major, year, basic life aspirations.”

“No, no, that’s super boring,” Bokuto argued, drumming his palms on the table. “I want to know the important stuff! Like why you like our Yuu.”

“Come on Kou, that’s super personal. We don’t want to make Asahi uncomfortable,” Kuroo countered with a shake of his head and a sympathetic nod in Asahi’s direction.

“Well, I want to get to know  _ you,  _ Asahi, not just things  _ about you _ ,” Bokuto said emphatically to Asahi.

Asahi’s cheeks flared as Kuroo and Bokuto bickered back and forth about what they wanted to know about him. He felt like he was being fought over. It didn’t help that he desperately wanted to impress them–that they were obviously incredibly important to Noya.

“Why don’t we just let Asahi tell us what he’s comfortable answering?” Kuroo eventually decided with a sense of finality. He turned back to Asahi with dark but not overly jarring eyes “What would you like us to know about you?”

_ Oh god no _ .

“Uh…” Asahi stammered, suddenly blanking on everything about himself. 

They were both staring expectantly at him: Kuroo with his arms folded across his chest, and Bokuto stretched forward across the table. What did they want from him? What would paint him in the most favorable light? He was an anxious mess, which was probably important to know, but that wouldn’t give the best first impression. His major was boring, he had no notable life goals, he didn’t have a job or any interesting hobbies.

He was  _ boring _ .

Why did someone as extraordinary as Nishinoya Yuu even like him in the first place?

“Hey, Asahi,” Kuroo said, breaking into Asahi’s impending panic. “You okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine,” Asahi blushed, fists clenched on his jeans. “I just… I’m not sure what to say.”

“You know what?” Kuroo said seriously, and Asahi was absolutely sure they were about to tell him off or berate him or something. Instead, his face softened and he spoke in sincere friendliness. “Why don’t we tell you about us?”

Asahi’s palms flattened. He tried to return Kuroo’s warm smile but he wasn’t sure if he was entirely successful. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because Bokuto immediately brightened and bobbed his head in furious agreement.

“That’s a great idea! And you can just interrupt us if you have anything you want to say? But don’t feel pressured, just talk whenever you want to!”

Asahi nodded and rested both hands in his lap. His fingers tangled together but he felt a little less anxious with Bokuto and Kuroo both looking at him with such genuine… kindness. There wasn’t a trace of pity in their eyes, either. They just seemed to understand.

Like Noya understood. 

Neither of them commented on his moment of pure panic. They started chatting like nothing at all had happened, like Asahi was already a friend and they were simply talking about their lives.

“So I had this bio test this morning, right?” Bokuto said as if he were picking up a recently dropped conversation. “And there was this extra credit question I really wanted to answer because I’m not, like,  _ super _ great at taking tests or anything and I totally guessed on the entire cellular respiration section…”

Bokuto babbled about his exam for a while, cheerfully explaining something Asahi didn’t understand about mitosis and meiosis. It became clear very quickly that even though Bokuto was basically a huge human puppy, he was extremely smart. His common sense was somewhat lacking but he was impressively knowledgeable about biology–especially animal biology.

Kuroo wasn’t an idiot either, but Asahi knew that already from his time dating Daichi. He was studying chemistry, which alone was way beyond Asahi’s level of ambition, but he was doing so in an impressively untraditional way.

“I want to design textiles,” Kuroo explained with a grin. “I love fashion and I think it would be interesting to actually chemically engineer the fabric.”

“Tettsun here is a personal stylist at some expensive boutique in downtown Tokyo,” Bokuto added with a jab of his thumb. 

“That sounds really interesting,” Asahi said, finding himself slumping pleasantly into the cushion of the booth. “I wish I could find a job in my field.”

“What is your field?” Kuroo asked with genuine interest.

“I’m studying history and social science,” Asahi said. He found himself growing warm again. After hearing how blindingly science savvy the two of them were, he felt rather stupid as a student in the humanities. 

Bokuto’s eyes, on the other hand, went wide with intrigue. 

“Whoa, that sounds awesome! What kind of history?” he asked excitedly.

Asahi plucked at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull out a loose thread. Kuroo and Bokuto stared at him again, and he felt like he was being questioned on the surface of the sun. He wasn’t as brilliant in academics as any of them. He barely got by passing his gen eds his first year. Granted, he was doing much better now, but he couldn’t come close to competing with people studying the hard sciences.

“It’s… it’s a program called, um, area studies,” Asahi said unsteadily. “Basically I choose a region and study everything about it.”

“That’s  _ so cool _ ,” Bokuto said wondrously. “What area are you studying?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Asahi said with a little self-conscious chuckle. 

His fingers danced around each other in his nerves but neither of his tablemates made any comment about it. Bokuto was leaning over the table still, and even in Kuroo’s reposed position, his brows were raised in interest. 

Did they want him to keep talking? 

“I’ve been, uh, debating between Bangladesh and Thailand,” Asahi continued a little less hesitantly. 

“Thailand!” Bokuto exclaimed, turning to Kuroo. “You like Thailand, right Tettsun?”

“Thai street fashion is always compelling,” Kuroo nodded interestedly. “What draws you to those places?”

“I have family there,” Asahi said. “And their histories are so interesting. It’s… it would… I’d like to compare and contrast the cultures of southeast Asia. See how it’s different from Japan.”

Kuroo nodded knowingly, arms crossed over his chest almost lazily, while Bokuto was basically laying his whole upper body across the table with one arm outstretched toward Asahi. They were both so relaxed Asahi had to wonder if they noticed how poorly Asahi was fumbling his way through this interaction. If they did, they obviously didn’t care.

Why weren’t any of them bothered by him?

“Are you two interrogating my boyfriend?” an irritated chirp interrupted their conversation. “I thought I told you to be nice.”

Noya slid into the booth beside Asahi, frowning and overall looking cross with his roommates. He slid a hand onto Asahi’s thigh and squeezed reassuringly as he scolded Bokuto and Kuroo. 

Asahi placed his hand on top of Noya’s and returned the pressure affectionately. 

“We were  _ not _ interrogating him!” Bokuto squawked defensively. “We were just trying to get to know him.”

Kuroo bobbed his head in agreement but Noya raised skeptical eyebrows. He turned pointedly to Asahi, and jerked his head toward his roommates.

“Were they being shits, Asahi?” he asked.

Asahi shook his head with a soft, genuine smile. “We were talking about my major.”

Noya squinted, trying to catch a lie or minimization in Asahi’s face. When he found none, his lips slipped sideways in his telltale slanting grin.

“Don’t let me stop you, then!” Noya encouraged. 

“I think we were pretty much done,” Asahi mumbled. He turned back to Bokuto and Kuroo, feeling significantly more open. “What else would you like to know about me?”

“Tell us about your hobbies,” Kuroo offered. 

“Oh, um, I don’t really have any interesting hobbies,” Asahi said lamely.

Noya was having none of that, though. He scoffed loudly, pressing a hand to his chest and staring in disbelief at his boyfriend.

“Excuse you, you have plenty of interesting hobbies! What about all of your work with cartography?”

Bokuto perked up, but his head fell to the side in befuddlement. “Cartography?”

“Map-making,” Kuroo explained.

“What! You make maps?! That’s so fucking cool Asahi!” Bokuto exclaimed, his excitement burning into Asahi’s cheeks.

“I don’t… I don’t really make them…” Asahi corrected. “Last year I worked with the history department to maintain their maps and then… I’m thinking about, um, applying to the museum to take care of their documents. I just… I really like maps and old documents so I have a really small collection of my own and I still help the history department take care of theirs.”

Bokuto’s eyes were huge, like Asahi was telling him he was able to create life from his bare hands. Kuroo looked equally as impressed, though he was much more aloof in his interest. 

Asahi’s body flared. He didn’t feel like it was very exciting work. In fact, it was dull, rather boring work, but he loved it. Caring for old documents required precision and care, steady hands and attentiveness. All of these were entirely overwhelming at first, but now he really loved it. The concentration required was extremely rewarding, even though the pressure not to harm ancient artifacts was unbelievably stressful. 

“That’s amazing! What about it do you like? I’d be terrified I’d ruin them forever,” Bokuto asked.

“Not everyone is as clumsy and careless as you, Bo,” Kuroo snickered.

“I’m not  _ that _ clumsy. Anyone would be nervous to handle something, like, a million years old!” Bokuto retorted defensively.

“The oldest map isn’t more than a few thousand years you know. And you literally broke the stove the other day because you got a fork trapped under the grate.”

The two of them dissolved into bickering (again) over which one of them was more likely to ruin old historical artifacts. They were like an old married couple in their banter, and Noya and Asahi both chuckled at them as they listened. Their fingers were entwined, Noya sneaking a kiss to Asahi’s cheek every once in a while, and Asahi found he was actually genuinely enjoying himself.

Eventually the exchange made its way back to include Asahi and Noya. Kuroo and Bokuto continued to ask questions, but it felt much more like a conversation than an interrogation. They were funny and kind and ridiculous, and it was easy to see why Noya got along with them so well.

Noya liked to say that they were two sides of the same mischievous demon–Bokuto was the chaos side and Kuroo was the neutral side (who the “law” side was they were unsure). 

They sat there for a long while, the nerves from forced small talk fading away until the four of them were just chatting about themselves and their lives. It wasn’t completely comfortable–Asahi still occasionally looking sideways at Noya in a mild panic when the focus rotated back to him–but it was much better than he could have hoped for. In fact, he couldn’t remember being that comfortable in a social situation since...well. Since Suga and Daichi really.

It was well into the afternoon by the time the conversation faded to a lull. 

“Shit, I have to get going,” Kuroo said, checking his watch around two. “I’m doing a late shift with this shitty prick of a client and if I’m not five minutes early, I’m late.”

“Yeah, I have stupid biochem homework to finish,” Bokuto said, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

The two of them shuffled out of the booth, stretching and cracking their stiffened joints. They turned to Noya and Asahi, Kuroo with a toothy, slanted grin that wasn’t unlike Noya’s, and Bokuto with a broad, bright-eyed beam and his hands settled on his hips. 

“It was great to  _ finally _ meet you!” Bokuto said with a biting look at Noya. “I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of you from now on.”

“I–the feeling is mutual,” Asahi said. “It was nice to meet both of you.”

“You’re always welcome at our apartment,” Kuroo invited, and Asahi blushed–not from embarrassment, but from being moved by the blasé kindness he’d been shown all afternoon.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Bokuto bounded toward the door, Kuroo following with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slouched forward. 

“Bye Nishi, bye Asahi!” Bokuto called over his shoulder.

“We’ll see you at home Noya. Take care,” Kuroo waved as they made their way out of the café. 

When they were gone, the bell tinkling and doors closing behind them, Noya fell forward with his head smacking against the table. Asahi started in surprise, but Noya just groaned loudly.

“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe they did that,” he said quietly. He turned his head to the side, just enough to make eye-contact with Asahi. He looked out of his mind with annoyance. “I’m so sorry they fucking… ugh I can’t believe them. Are you okay? Did they make you mega fucking uncomfortable?”

“Surprisingly, no,” Asahi said honestly, resting an encouraging hand on Noya’s back. “They were pretty friendly. I felt a little awkward at first but it… I was fine.”

Noya squinted dubiously, but when Asahi started to rub soothing circles in his shoulderblades with a completely genuine look of relaxation, he unwound. He let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand through his hair.

“Good. That’s all I care about,” he said, sitting up a little and exhaling the remainder of his stress.

Asahi, too, was surprised at his own comfort level. It was so odd to him he paused a moment to contemplate why he felt that way. 

Up until recently in his life, new people drained him so much he’d stopped trying to make friends. Even if it was all in his head, he constantly felt like he was annoying everyone he interacted with. He was always anxious and had an infinite amount of nervous ticks and he stuttered and usually stared just about everywhere except at the person he was talking to. It was painful to interact with him at first and he knew it. Granted, once he relaxed a little he knew he was a fairly easy person to get along with, but people rarely wanted to put in the social energy to get to that point.

Noya had been the first person really since Suga and Daichi who cared to get past the initial discomfort. In fact, it seemed like he hadn’t even registered Asahi’s social ineptitude as uncomfortable. He treated Asahi like anyone else. Which was absolutely wild, but it was one of the reasons Asahi had been so drawn to him.

Then there were Bokuto and Kuroo. They were huge personalities, basically made of confidence, people who wouldn’t be expected to waste their time with a timid soul like Asahi. Yet they’d stayed, talked to him for hours without even a hint of frustration. They were just as comfortable with Asahi as Noya.

Who were these people, sent into Asahi’s life who were so at ease with the way Asahi just  _ was _ ?

“Can I ask you something?” Asahi asked after a moment of silence. 

“Of course,” Noya said, hand returning to Asahi’s thigh.

“Are… you and your roommates seem… you three are just… why are you so nice to me?”

It wasn’t exactly what he’d meant to ask but it was close enough. Normally, this wasn’t something he’d like to talk about in the middle of a public café. Most of the patrons had left, though, after the rush, and there was no one around them really to listen in. Besides, Noya was safe, this place was safe, and it was a little easier to push himself a little socially with that affectionate gleam shining in Noya’s eyes.

Noya’s forehead creased in confusion. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t we be nice to you?”

“Because I’m an anxious mess,” Asahi said with a humorless snort. 

“Well. I don’t really know what to say other than that nothing about you is bothersome,” Noya said firmly, taking Asahi’s hand tightly in his own. “We like you. Bokuto and Kuroo wouldn’t bullshit you. Especially not Bokuto. He has absolutely no filter whatsoever. If he thought you were weird or if he didn’t like you, he’d tell you to your face.”

Asahi nodded. There was a glimmer of doubt in his chest, but he trusted that Noya wouldn’t lie to him. Besides, Bokuto and Kuroo had stayed to talk to him far beyond what would have been polite. They’d smiled. They’d kept him talking, even when he got tangled up in his own words.

“I’m sorry you met them this way, but hey, now there’s absolutely nothing keeping you from hanging out with us at my place!” Noya said exuberantly. “We’re literally a hub for people who are a little off, you know. Me, Bo, Kuroo, our other roommate and his boyfriend, Kiyoko’s girlfriend… I think Kiyoko is probably the least bananas out of all of us and she’s dating Yachi, who could absolutely be your match when it comes to anxiety. So. I really think you’d do well there.”

“I’d like that,” Asahi said, running his thumb over the smooth back of Noya’s hand. “And you have to meet Suga and Daichi. I think they’ll like you a lot.”

“What are they–actually, I need to get going so I can get my homework done. Walk me home? But I want to know what Suga and Daichi are like,” Noya said, ushering Asahi out of the booth.

Their hands remained firmly clasped together as they left the café with a friendly wave goodbye at Ennoshita and Shirabu. The air outside was just chilly enough to give Asahi an excuse to press against Noya–a literal human furnace–for some extra warmth.

“So, Daichi and Suga?” Noya repeated. “You’ve told me a little but I want to know what they’re like. What makes y’all so close?”

“Well, we met in middle school and we went to the same high school,” Asahi explained, lips spreading fondly as he thought of his two best friends. “We played volleyball together, and we were the only first-years when we tried out for the high school team so we just kind of… became joined at the hip.”

“I feel like volleyball has a way of bringing people together,” Noya said very sincerely. “That’s how Kiyoko and I got involved. And how I got close with my friend Ryuu.”

“It helps,” Asahi agreed contentedly. 

A little wave of nostalgia washed through him as he remembered those first awkward lunches together. They were all just tiny first-years, all nervous and bright-eyed, all a little awkward and a little unsure. Probably why they’d bonded so tightly, and why Asahi had never really seemed that odd to Daichi and Suga.

“I dated Suga for a little while before he ended up with Daichi,” Asahi continued. “We’re much better friends than we were lovers, though.”

“I totally get that. I feel like that’s how most of my relationships end up,” Noya laughed. “Not with you, obviously, but in high school, you know. Before I had any emotional awareness whatsoever.”

“Me too,” Asahi chuckled. “But they’re my best friends. I never feel like a third-wheel. They’re definitely disgustingly in love but I feel very included. And Suga doesn’t let me get away with shit. I guess Daichi doesn’t really either but Suga is much more proactive. Daichi is just kind of… Pushes me, you know? Suga helps with coping stuff and Daichi doesn’t let me crawl into a hole and give up.”

“They sound perfect for you,” Noya said glowingly. “I’m glad you have them. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Me too. We’ll set something up soon,” Asahi promised. 

He tried not to think too hard about what that might look like. He was sure they’d get on like a duck to water but it was still daunting. Meetings of any kind were daunting. At least he’d gotten this one out of the way without any time to brood over it.

They walked the rest of the way to their halfway point in relative silence. Noya whistled a tune Asahi didn’t recognize, but he listened pleasurably anyway. As he listened, he thought, and he suspended himself between the swirl of his mind and the very real feelings and sounds of Noya.

He thought about Bokuto and Kuroo and how comfortable they’d been with him. He thought about Noya and how patient and sympathetic he was, even when Asahi had flipped out during their first date. He thought about how many people were being put right in front of him to build close relationships with, when he hadn’t done that since high school. He thought about what he might have done that the universe decided he deserved all of these new, wonderful people in his life.

He thought about the bittersweet mix of new relationships with old, and how all of this would mean less time with Daichi and Suga. He thought about all of the change in his life, and how it would have been laughable even a few months ago that he’d be so open to all of it.

He thought about how warm and secure Noya’s hand felt in his as they walked down the street together. He thought about where Noya would take him from here, where they would go with their bodies and their hearts and their minds. He thought about falling in love and how he hoped it wasn’t too early to think he might be definitely doing that for Noya.

He thought about the future, and how suddenly it didn’t seem quite as ominous as it always had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	8. Semi-Formal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahi and Noya wound their way through the loitering crowd towards Yachi and her exhibit. She looked relieved at the sight of a familiar face. Bright and almost cheerful, though her hands still wrung together in front of her.
> 
> “I’m so glad you could make it,” Yachi said once Noya and Asahi stopped in front of her collection.
> 
> “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Noya beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see Asahi sitting around 186cm like the last update and Noya hitting a bit of a growth spurt his last year of high school and getting up around 170-ish cm. That puts Asahi around 6ft and Noya around 5’6”. Just as a clarification :) 
> 
> **Spoiler/content warning:** There’s a vivid description of a panic attack at the end of the chapter. If you want to skip it, I’d stop reading from “Go talk to Kuroo-san if you need someone” to “It’s okay Azu”

“I can tell them no,” Noya said firmly. “You’re under no obligation to come if you’re too nervous, Asahi.”

“No, I want to,” Asahi insisted. “I want to meet everyone.”

“If you're sure,” Noya said, reaching up to give Asahi a kiss on the cheek (a kiss that somehow still pulled blood and warmth to the surface of his skin). 

Noya clasped Asahi's hand surely in his own, and the two set out from Beans to Noya’s apartment. 

June had arrived, and with it the beginning of the summer heat. Asahi, whose body seemed to have trouble regulating its own temperature, was extremely grateful for the change. He loved being out in the sun. Fond memories of him, Suga, and Daichi hanging out at the park by their house in their youth made the summer both nostalgic and comforting for him. 

They didn’t go to the park as much anymore, but Suga still loved to wear a ridiculous floppy hat and sit by the little lake in the middle of campus to sunbathe. It would be nice to take Noya along on those lazy afternoon lounges too.

Noya, on the other hand, protested loudly any time the temperature rose above sixteen degrees. He was like a tiny human furnace. It made cuddling lovely, but going outside an instant sweat-soaked complaining mess.

“Humidity is the worst. It's like breathing through milk,” he grumbled as they strolled down the sidewalk together. 

“That sounds horrible,” Asahi grimaced. “It’s not even that humid yet.”

“I knowwww! How awful is that?” Noya groaned, stomping his feet for extra effect. 

Asahi chuckled and bent down to peck Noya on the cheek. He brightened up immediately, beaming up at Asahi like he’d just been given something precious. Asahi couldn’t look at him for long without turning red.

Apart from Noya’s bellyaching about the heat, there were so many things Asahi loved about the summer. The warmth, of course, and the sun which always seemed to provide a bit of respite from his anxiety. There was something about the summer weather that brightened and soothed him at the same time.

Suga and Daichi would be going out more as well. With Asahi spending almost all of his free time either in the map room or at Noya’s apartment, he felt like he hadn’t seen the two of them in ages. Hopefully the three of them—maybe even the four of them—would be relishing the summer together soon.

Tonight, though, Asahi was going to be attending a relatively formal event as Noya's “arm-candy” (though it was clear that Noya was the one who could be called arm candy). They'd been planning it for some weeks now, after Noya had insisted that Asahi meet Yachi. Asahi actually knew very little about her, other than the fact that she was Kiyoko’s girlfriend and that she and Asahi were kindred spirits.

Asahi was excited get to know her. Kiyoko too, since he'd only briefly seen her flash through Noya's apartment over the past few weeks. They were the last very important people in Noya's life, other than his childhood best friend, for Asahi to be introduced to. He'd even met the grumpy and elusive Iwaizumi.

Being slowly integrated into Noya’s life, accepted as a part of his ragtag group of friends, was odd. He’d never experienced anything like it. They were all so quirky in such different ways. Kuroo, Bokuto, even Iwaizumi, had all basically adopted Asahi as a fifth roommate without batting an eye.

“Anyone little bird cares about is someone we care about,” Bokuto declared one afternoon over what Kuroo called “lunch pancakes” (pancakes with seaweed and pickled plums that actually turned out to be pretty good).

He'd never expected anyone to take the time with him that they did. Daichi and Suga did it because they both loved him, but Bokuto and Kuroo? They'd known him for almost no time at all and yet Bokuto texted him every day now asking if he was coming over for dinner. Kuroo was helping him narrow down a concentration for his major. Iwaizumi sometimes asked him how his day was.

It was terrifying. Even though he wasn’t exactly leaving Suga and Daichi behind, he felt like they were drifting. They still had lunch often, and movie nights, and baked and spent time together. Those moments were just starting to decrease. 

It would be okay, though. They just… needed to meet Noya.

Until that time, though, Bokuto and Kuroo—and Noya too of course—were absolutely  _ insisting _ that he spend as much time at their apartment as possible. 

And Noya's apartment was… Interesting. 

“We're hoooommmeeeee!” Noya sang as he busted the door open. 

Asahi mumbled something about breaking their lock if he kept doing that but it was swallowed by a chorus of greetings in response: a grunt of acknowledgement from a studying Iwaizumi on the sofa, a foxish call from Kuroo in the kitchen, and a bellow from Bokuto that made Asahi jump out of his skin. 

Noya glared at Bokuto as he ran his fingers gently over the back of Asahi’s hand.

“The amount of times I've told you not to do that…”

“Fuck I'm sorry!” Bokuto said, smacking himself in the face. “I forget a lot.”

“Write yourself a sticky note at this point Koutarou,” Noya rolled his eyes, kicking off his shoes. 

“I will, I will. I'm sorry Asahi I know you're sensitive…” Bokuto said. He turned to Asahi with a look like a scolded child and Asahi felt bitterness fill his throat. 

“It's okay. I'm not made of glass, you don't need to treat me like I am.”

“Yeah but it's fine that things scare you and I'll be more careful!” Bokuto promised, in a loud but much more tolerable voice. “Sorry, Noya.”

“It’s all good, sorry I snapped at you dude,” Noya said a little more gently. “I know you’ve got memory issues.”

“We should get you a notebook or an app or something,” Kuroo suggested over his shoulder.

“I used to do that. With grounding techniques, and it really helped,” Asahi agreed.

Bokuto perked up even more. “Yeah! That sounds like a great idea!”

Kuroo and Bokuto started debating back and forth over the most helpful way to get a handle on Bokuto’s memory problems. Kuroo clattered around the kitchen, Iwaizumi started grumbling to himself about all the noise, and Bokuto squeaked back and forth on his stool. It was a lot of things happening all at once but Asahi didn’t mind. He was starting to get used to it. Noya's apartment was always very loud and very full of activity and Asahi still often felt very overwhelmed sometimes. Noya told him that they were never obligated to go into that environment if he didn't want to, but for some reason he usually did? 

It was very confusing. It was a comforting sort of chaos, if there was such a thing.

“Come on, we can leave the loudmouths in here for a bit,” Noya said, pulling Asahi by the hand back towards his bedroom. 

“Use protection!” Kuroo called after them. Asahi's face  _ burned _ . 

Noya threw one of his shoes Kuroo's direction. 

“We're not—jesus Kuroo we're not having sex at four in the afternoon with three people in the living room,” Noya said. 

Kuroo threw up his hands, covered in oil from whatever he was cooking, with that catty-corner grin of his. “Hey, to each their own. I don't judge.”

Noya rolled his eyes but he ignored his roommates in favor of leading Asahi into his bedroom. 

There wasn't much to say in their defense anyway. Kuroo wasn't entirely wrong. The moment Noya's bedroom door closed behind them, Noya had his hands fisted in Asahi's shirt and he was closing the gap between their lips on tiptoe. 

“Are you comfortable with this since they're out there?” Noya checked as his breath tickled Asahi's mouth. 

Asahi nodded fervently and it was maybe a second before Noya was kissing him, soft and deep and perfect. 

This part of their relationship was starting to become like a routine. Not in a boring, unchanging kind of way, but in a reassuring, familiar kind of way. The more they kissed, the more Noya learned Asahi's body—what he liked and what he didn't like. Asahi was learning too, all of the things that made Noya inhale sharply through his teeth, made little quiet moans bubble up from his chest. There weren't many things Noya didn't like, so it was more like finding what he liked the most. 

He liked it when Asahi held his waist while they kissed. He liked pushing Asahi up against things like walls and doors and bookshelves, to press as close as possible. He liked undoing Asahi’s hair so he could run his fingers through it. He liked kissing up Asahi’s jawline and nuzzling into his beard.

It just so happened that Asahi really, really liked all of those things too.

Even if Noya didn’t have a favorite thing, Asahi did. It was when Noya would trail those kisses up Asahi’s jaw, then change directions once he reached the junction below his ear. He would then kiss Asahi’s throat—open-mouthed and wet—so gentle but so needy. He was careful in his want, careful to not leave hickeys where Asahi didn’t want them, careful not to use too much teeth because Asahi didn’t like that. But Asahi wanted to be kissed and Noya wanted to kiss him.

Asahi loved that Noya was so conscious of his boundaries and his nerves without treating him like he was going to break at any moment.

Asahi didn’t  _ scare _ him.

Noya paused at the dip in Asahi’s collarbone. He pulled away just enough to look up at Asahi with rosy cheeks and a matching, placid smile. Both hands were balled up in the front of Asahi’s shirt and his lip was caught between his teeth.

“Do you want to stop?” Asahi asked, smoothing up and down Noya’s sides.

Noya shook his head, and his face screwed up strangely. He looked… nervous? Asahi had never actually seen Noya nervous. Noya’s brows were slanted downward and he was biting his lip quite a lot, and Asahi was sure that Noya’s fingers were trembling faintly against his chest. 

“I want to show you something,” Noya said with anxious excitement. He worried his lip with his teeth even more and searched Asahi's face. “It isn't like, super sexual or anything but I wanna show you.”

“Okay. That’s more than fine,” Asahi said with a nod.

“Can—will you sit on the bed? Are you okay with that?” Noya said, releasing Asahi’s clothes and taking a step back. “Like I said I promise it isn’t sexual—”

“I’m okay with it,” Asahi interrupted quickly. “And even if it was…”

A sticky heat crawled up Asahi’s body, right from his stomach probably all the way up to his hairline. Noya just raised his eyebrows curiously as Asahi looked very intently at the blond frond tickling his forehead. He didn’t press Asahi for anything else, though. He just stood back and gestured for Asahi to make himself comfortable on his bed.

Asahi sank down easily onto the messy but surprisingly comfortable mattress and sheets. His hands found the edge and he gripped just hard enough to keep himself from slipping off as he leaned forward. 

Noya was grinning, eyes still glinting with apprehension, but Asahi didn’t feel nervous. He was just curious.

“Can you close your eyes?” Noya asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” Asahi said. 

Asahi’s eyes fluttered shut. He was really, really curious now, wondering what on earth Noya was about to show him, but he didn’t cheat. A patient, caring boyfriend, he kept his eyes dutifully shut while he listened to Noya shuffling around in front of him. There was a soft thud of something lightweight hitting the floor before Noya said, “Okay, you can look now.”

Asahi’s eyes blinked open. Then they went wide. He tried to stop them because he knew it was probably impolite but the sight in front of him was… well.

Noya stood, one hand on his hip and the other ruffling the back of his undercut, head tucked in slightly and looking up at Asahi sheepishly through his lashes. His shirt lay abandoned on the floor beside him and he stood in front of Asahi in nothing but his work slacks.

His bare body was so much more attractive than Asahi could have imagined. He wasn’t muscular exactly, toeing the line between toned and pudgy, and it was perfect. His nipples were pierced, of course they were, and he had another tattoo creeping up from his hip to his armpit—a bonzai tree with soot sprites hidden in the leaves.

What Noya had probably been nervous to show him, however, was painted in scar tissue across his chest.

There were two, reddish-white scars right beneath Noya’s pectoral muscles—faded but still visible. They reminded Asahi of aerial photos from canyons or dry riverbeds. The edges of his areolas showed similar signs of scarring, but almost undetectably so. Everything was well-healed, obviously cut open years ago, but the marks from surgery were still unmistakably there.

“It… it doesn’t usually come up like this,” Noya piped up when Asahi just stared at him stupidly for far too many seconds. “I normally just take my shirt off during sex without saying anything so it isn’t like I’m, like,  _ ashamed _ of them or anything but…”

Noya trailed off. His hand fell to his side and he clenched and unclenched his fists as Asahi continued to stare mutely at him. He was growing redder than Asahi had ever seen him.

“It’s still, like, my body. And showing them to you outside of sex just feels… I don’t know… more intimate? Somehow?” Noya’s eyes fell to the floor and Asahi’s heart clenched painfully at his obvious discomfort. “That sounds stupid. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—it was dumb to do it like this.”

“No,” Asahi said quickly, much louder than was necessary and making Noya jump a little. He continued at a much more appropriate volume, shaking his head like a waterlogged dog. “No, it isn’t stupid. It isn’t at  _ all _ stupid. It’s… yeah. More intimate.”

Asahi was touched. It was a conscious show of trust from Noya. He was putting his body on display, visible marks from his past and he was trusting Asahi with that past.

“I’m sorry,” Asahi said this time. “I’m just… words are… I’m just not great at saying things. But I… I’m… thank you. For showing me this, Noya.”

Noya glanced up when Asahi’s tone became much gentler, much more sincere. Then, he was grinning again, and there was something very tangible stringing them together in that moment. Asahi smiled too. He beckoned for Noya to come closer. 

“What do you think?” Noya asked, settling his hands on Asahi’s shoulders. “They aren’t, like, gross or anything to you right?”

“Not at all,” Asahi assured him, meeting his eyes with surprising confidence. “I don’t think any part of you could ever be gross.”

Noya’s smile was radiant.

“Do you want to touch ‘em?” he offered in a much more cheerful tone.

Asahi bobbed his head with a smile. “If you’re comfortable.”

“Please,” Noya invited.

Asahi gently ran the tips of his fingers over Noya’s scarring. The skin was softer, more pliable, and a little smoother the flesh around them. Noya hummed as Asahi glided his fingers across the surface of both scars, out towards his sides, then back inward. 

He realized that this was the first time he was touching Noya shirtless. Or even seeing Noya shirtless, for that matter. His body heat skyrocketed at the thought.

“Do you mind if I touch a little more? Or… look at you?” Asahi asked tentatively. He wanted badly to explore Noya’s body, smooth and a little hairy and sexy as hell.

Noya shuddered as Asahi’s fingers brushed his ribs. He sighed, melting against Asahi’s hands.  Asahi really,  _ really _ liked that noise.  

After a moment, Noya shook his head, pulling back from Asahi’s hands

“I definitely want you to. Like, I  _ super _ want you to, but Yachi’s gala is soon…” He trailed off looking displeased and a little guilty. “Sorry. It isn’t because I don’t want to. I do.”

“It’s fine, Noya, really,” Asahi said with a smile and a brush to Noya's cheek. “Really. I just… Want to touch you. At some point. Whenever you're okay with it.”

Asahi's eyes searched Noya's body, thinking about all the ways he'd like to touch his boyfriend when they had time. There was a dark patch of hair leading down from his sternum past his navel that Asahi desperately wanted to explore with his lips. He could imagine himself tracing Noya's scars with his tongue, running his hands up Noya's sides to press into the divots between his ribs. 

There were about a million ways Asahi wanted to touch Noya, some curious and some distinctly less innocent, but for now he was content to just kiss Noya's cheek and let him shuffle away from his hands. 

“And just to be super clear I want you to too,” Noya said as he walked to his closet to pick out something for the evening. “I want you to touch me, Asahi, however that looks like for you.”

Should that have made Asahi’s stomach flip over like that, and bring all the blood in his body rushing into his cheeks? They shared a warm smile before Noya turned to dig through his clothes for something “semi-formal”. 

Asahi had already asked both Suga and Daichi for advice on attire when he’d been first invited to the gala—mostly Daichi because he was an expert on dress etiquette from his years in orchestra. They’d gone shopping for a new grey button-up and burgundy paisley tie that Suga absolutely adored, and dug out some black dress slacks Asahi hadn’t worn since Daichi’s third-year showcase. It made him nervous to wear something so expensive that he could easily spill a cocktail all over and ruin, but it also made him feel very refined.

Noya, of course, waited until the last possible second to get himself ready. It was starting in just a few hours and here he was, searching through his closet for anything acceptable. While he looked, Asahi excused himself into Noya's bathroom to slip into the ensemble Suga and Daichi helped him pick out—kept hanging on Noya's door in a bag so he wouldn't forget it.

It had been quite some time since Asahi had to dress up like this. The slacks were a tad too tight but not uncomfortably so, and he managed to get the button-up on with minimal wrinkling. The tie he fumbled with, but he managed the neat half-windsor Kuroo had been helping him practice that week. 

He walked to Noya's mirror and straightened everything out. He'd trimmed his beard, but just a bit because Noya  _ really _ liked his stubble, and left his hair half-down as per Noya's request. He brushed some of the wrinkles out of his shirt, made sure his tie was as centered as possible, and looked himself over. 

There was a nervous twitch in his hands and an unsettled slant to his mouth but all in all, he felt… Handsome. Sort of. 

He knocked on the bathroom door leading back into Noya's bedroom when he was satisfied, cracking it open just enough to call out, “may I come back in?”

“Just—hrg—one moment!” Noya responded in a muffled voice. 

Asahi could hear Noya struggling with something, probably his shirt, followed by a long stream of curses worthy of a sailor. Another moment with the sound of cloth being smoothed down and the familiar zip of a tie being adjusted. 

“Okay! Come in!” Noya chirped. 

Asahi creaked the door open hesitantly. This was the first time Noya was seeing him dressed up. He was worried that he looked too tall, or too old, or that his clothes didn't match well enough, or that his hair was too wild, or that he—

His train of thought stopped dead on the tracks. 

Noya stood in the middle of the room, adjusting his cuffs and still grumbling a little under his breath. As per his signature, the sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing those blessed tattoos of his. The flex of his forearms made the images dance across his skin in a brilliant array of color and lines. His shirt was maroon, complemented by a thin black tie and black, straight-legged slacks. It really wasn't all that different from his uniform at the café, but he still stole all of Asahi's breath when he looked up with those glinting hazel eyes and a smirk that could pierce a stubborn heart. 

It wasn’t the image, but the atmosphere that was different. The slope of his shoulders, the expert workings of his hands up his arms, the way the slacks hugged his ass and thighs, the little ruffles of his chest as he breathed. It was all so perfect. He was luminous. Blinding.

If Asahi had some wine in him or even a little more moxie, he would have taken Noya by that crisp collar and backed himself against a wall so Noya could pin him there with his mouth and his hands. Unfortunately, the gala was starting soon, and he needed to save that primal urge for a later date. Instead, he smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling very unworthy of this celestial person before him. 

“You look wonderful, Yuu,” Asahi said in an attempt to sound smooth instead of absolutely shaken. 

Noya beamed at the use of his given name. He trotted up to Asahi and flung his arms around his boyfriend's neck to push Asahi’s hand aside, and pulled him into a kiss. It was only a few centimeters of difference, just over a dozen or so, but he loved the way Noya would stand on his toes to close the distance and even stretch just a bit above Asahi when they kissed. 

When they pulled apart, Noya smoothed his hands down Asahi’s chest. His eyes combed all over Asahi’s body, teeth tugging on his lower lip. Asahi felt heat creep up all the way from his stomach to his cheeks.

“I could say the same about you,” Noya said gruffly. “Why on earth have I never seen you in a button-up Azumane?”

“I wanted you to like me for me, not my rugged good looks,” Asahi replied cheekily.

Noya just barked out a laugh—the head-thrown-back, eyes-closed kind—and gave Asahi another kiss. Asahi smiled into Noya’s lips. He was delighted to feel Noya do the same. When Noya pulled away, he laced their fingers together and tugged Asahi towards the door.

“Come on. Let’s get going.”

“Wait, wait. Are you sure I’m not overdressed?” Asahi asked, fiddling at his tie with a frown. “I feel like I should be going to a cocktail party or something.”

“Yachi said ‘business casual’. You’ll be fine,” Noya said, pulling Asahi through the door.

Everyone else was already waiting for them in the living room. Iwaizumi was in a plain white button-up, black tie, and black slacks. 

Bokuto was wearing a very… unique button-down shirt with those little 90s squiggles and shapes all over it. He’d definitely be the only one at the gala wearing that. Still, his maroon chinos outlined his absolutely stellar thighs and calves and even with its odd pattern the shirt highlighted his broad shoulders and burly arms. Bokuto was  _ built _ .

Kuroo was, of course, the most fashionable of all of them. He was a perfect mix of avant garde and traditional and would likely look the most at-home at an art expedition. He wore a black v-neck tee under a grey blazer with black lapels, black jeans patched at random with faux-leather and tapering down to pool at the tops of dark brown dress boots. He looked like a dark, very sexy vampire, especially with the accent of his deep purple lipstick and his glasses.

No wonder Bokuto was looking at him with an appreciation that bordered on hunger.

“Everyone ready?” Noya asked brightly, keeping a firm grip on Asahi’s hand.

“Let’s do this,” Kuroo agreed with a smirk.

The gala wasn’t far from the apartment. The evening was a little muggy, but warm and welcoming with a gentle breeze. Asahi's hands were starting to sweat both from the humidity and his growing nerves, but bless him, Noya kept their fingers tightly woven together anyway. 

“You're going to love Yachi,” Noya said for probably the millionth time. “I honestly think you two are of the same soul.”

“So deep, Yuu!” Bokuto praised excitedly, walking with an honest and endearing skip in his step. 

“He's totally right, though. You two are almost creepily similar,” Kuroo agreed. He loped alongside Bokuto with a slight hunch, sauntering along like a cat and a puppy. 

“You're both just so… Gentle. And genuinely kind and giving,” Noya said with a smile. “Yachi has really become like a sister to me so. I know you two will get along.”

“And then we can all be a huge, happy family!” Bokuto beamed. 

“I personally love having our tiny apartment filled with loud, awkward gays,” Iwaizumi said gruffly. He sounded annoyed but it was really hard to tell the difference between an irritated Iwaizumi and an everyday Iwaizumi. 

“You're saying that like you and your pretty boy lover aren't contributing to that culture whatsoever,” Kuroo quipped with a playful smirk. 

Iwaizumi scowled, but there was some humor in the dark depths of his eyes. “Amusing, coming from King Pretty himself.”

Kuroo raised a brow. He twirled a lock of his hair out of his eye with a flourish and ran his perfectly manicured nails along his jawline. “Nothing wrong with a good moisturizer and even an infinitesimal amount of pride in your appearance, cactus head.”

“Cactus he—Kuroo Tetsurou you literally wear your bedhead like it's some kind of fashion trend!” Iwaizumi retorted with an exasperated wave of his hand. 

As Iwaizumi and Kuroo tangled together in a mess of bickering, Bokuto sidestepped to be closer to Noya and Asahi. He leaned to the side and muttered in Asahi's ear, “they're like an old married couple I swear.”

“To be fair, you and Kuroo are no better,” Asahi reasoned. “I heard you two arguing in the kitchen the other day about the best way to load a dishwasher.”

Bokuto snorted and smacked Asahi playfully on the back, a bit too hard but Asahi was grateful for the show of brotherly affection all the same. 

Kuroo and Iwaizumi continued their debate, and Noya and Bokuto slipped into a much less confrontational discussion about the ending to the last  _ Sex and the City _ movie. Asahi would have never guessed but it turned out to be the beefy, slightly intimidating and overly zealous Koutarou who was turning Noya into a rom com connoisseur. Not wanting to participate in either conversation for fear of irreversible public shame, Asahi listened contentedly to the sounds of their traveling party and the city as they walked down the street together. 

Of course silence meant thinking, and thinking meant overthinking his way into a tizzy. 

The last formal event he’d been to was Daichi’s final high school orchestral performance. Back then, “business casual” basically meant a nice pair of jeans and a striped button-down with minimal stains. An art gala for one of Noya’s best friends had a lot more weight than a high school band concert.

What was the etiquette for something like this? Would he have to make small talk with strangers? Would there be cocktails? What happened if he spilled a cocktail on his shirt? Would Noya know a lot of people there and stop to talk to all of them? What if Asahi had something horribly embarrassing in front of Noya’s friends and he was forced to live in a cave with nothing but a bat best friend to keep him company for the rest of his life?

There were so many things that could go wrong. There were always so many things that could go wrong. Asahi was just too awkward to function, especially at something as classy and highbrow as this. The probably that he would humiliate himself and others was so high…

He glanced to the side, where Kuroo and Iwaizumi were now playfully bantering about whose hair was more ridiculous. Noya and Bokuto were discussing yet another romantic comedy with fervor. 

Asahi’s heart was hammering out of control, but as he looked down at the sidewalk disappearing beneath his shoes he let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going into this alone.

“Hey Azu, you okay?” Noya asked, shaking Asahi out of the salad spinner of his thoughts. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” Asahi said, trying at a smile.

Noya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn’t press. He just squeezed Asahi’s hand and kissed his shoulder. 

The five of them passed a particularly tall office building and were greeted on the other side by a small and quirky art gallery. It looked like an older building, made from brick with latticework on the high windows; the rust from the iron dripping down from the bars like smudged mascara.  The entrance was illuminated by multicolored lights and overhung by a banner that read “Student Art and Photography Exhibition”. 

Since the night was pleasant, there were a few people milling around the front, drinking cocktails and chatting. Some of them looked to be around Asahi’s age, while others were obviously professors and faculty.

There were… a lot of people. And that was just outside.

“You still doing alright Azu?” Noya asked, leaning a bit closer to Asahi now. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Asahi insisted. The effect was diminished by the way his voice cracked at the end of the sentence. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to be here. We can go—”

“You okay, Asahi?” Bokuto barked in a much, much louder voice than was necessary. 

“I’m fine,” Asahi said, hand finding his neck. 

Noya tugged gently at his arm to get him to stop rubbing. Asahi begrudgingly lowered his hand to clench a fist at his side as they got nearer and nearer to the building.

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” Bokuto said much quieter, covering his mouth and sidestepping closer to Asahi and Noya. “I just wanted to check in ‘cuz you seem real nervous. You know Yachi won’t mind if you have to duck out, right?”

“No, I don’t want to leave. It’s just… a lot,” Asahi admitted.

“That’s okay!” Bokuto said in the whisper-shout that he passed off as his quiet voice. “We’ll be here the whole time and we can totally leave whenever you want.”

“We got your back,” Kuroo said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere beside Bokuto. “No shame in being nervous around crowds.”

“You two are so fucking nosy,” Noya complained through a smile. 

“Only because we care,” Kuroo said with a shrug. 

Bokuto nodded along, and even Iwaizumi grunted in agreement. Asahi’s blush deepened but he felt reinvigorated. Safe. There was a group of people right here who were there to support him.

As they approached, Kuroo broke off to go greet some of the professors. He waved them on, so the four of them continued on into the gallery itself. Noya gave Asahi’s hand one last reassuring squeeze before they pushed the doors open and stepped inside.

They were welcomed immediately by the sounds of idle chatter and horrible elevator music. Much like outside the building, most of the crowd were college-age with a few real professional adults  milling about here and there. Everyone was in casual or business casual attire which made Asahi feel a little better. At least he wasn’t overdressed.

The interior of the building was more much modern than the exterior. Blank, white walls and polished wood floors created a very sophisticated, pristine environment. Art of all sorts—paintings, sketches, photographs, collages, sculptures—breathed a brilliant pulse into the deadened, almost sterile surroundings. It felt like an important place full of important people and important works.

Students hung about by clusters of similar pieces, probably their own collections of works. Some of them held their chins high with poise, either filled with confidence or feigning it. Others shuffled their feet, wrung their hands together, and looked anxiously around at all of the eyes—judgmental or curious—examining their hard work.

“Is this for a grade or something?” Asahi asked quietly as he let Noya lead them around the room to peruse the art.

“Nah. All of these students were chosen by their professors to showcase their pieces so it’s more of like, a reward,” Noya said. He hooked their elbows together with an air of sophistication that in a room full of people, Asahi found quite sexy. 

“Some of them just look super nervous,” Asahi said. He nodded at a young, freckly student with a cowlick who didn’t seem able to maintain eye contact with anyone for too long. They stood by a collection of traditional kintsugi pottery that was absolutely stunning.

“Well, there are some museum curators and collectors here that could potentially buy their pieces or get them a contact,” Noya explained as they paused in front of some oil paintings. “Networking and all that nonsense.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

Noya guided them in a circle around the room, stopping here and there and pointing out some of Yachi’s classmates that he knew. He didn’t force Asahi to make any kind of small talk, thank god. He stopped to say hi a few times, introduced Asahi, and then went on their way with a promise to “catch up later”. 

Asahi’s palms were still getting very sweaty.

“You’re doing great, Azu,” Noya encouraged, rubbing up and down Asahi’s arm. “And you look so delicious I think some of those photo students might steal you.”

Noya tilted his head at a small group of students with cameras gathering in a corner of the gallery. They kept shooting sideways glances at Asahi when they thought he wasn’t looking. 

“Oh god, I don’t want that,” Asahi mumbled, pressing firmly against Noya.

Noya chuckled and kissed his shoulder with tender affection. “I got you, love.”

They continued perusing the gallery, Noya making sure to avoid the photography students at all costs. The tension in Asahi’s body was wound tight enough to snap but Noya was there, and that made things a little better. He could lean down to kiss Noya’s cheek and draw out the most adorable giggle from his boyfriend. That little twinkling, windchime-like sound was in itself able to relax Asahi just a bit. Enough at least to enjoy the art.

“Do you have a favorite kind of art?” Noya asked brightly when they entered a second room and began the process all over again.

“Um… I don’t really know. I like pottery a lot, and photographs,” Asahi said. “And maps, of course. I’d consider them art.”

“Yeah, me too. Did you like Yamaguchi’s pieces then?” Noya asked, jabbing a thumb behind them towards the freckly youth from before. They seemed a little more at ease now, talking to a tall beanpole of a man with glasses and a completely unreadable expression.

“They were beautiful,” Asahi nodded with a smile. “What about you? Do you have a favorite?”

“I can appreciate pretty much anything except for abstract to be honest,” Noya chuckled. “Not that it’s bad. I think I’m just too unsophisticated to understand it even though Yachi’s tried to explain it to me about a million times. It’s just—wait, I think I see her!”

Noya dropped his sentence to point excitedly across the room. A very small girl with a side ponytail in a floral sundress and sneakers stood by a cluster of some of the most unique works Asahi had yet to see. They were black-and-white photographs taken all over Japan, overlaid with colored sketches of fantastical creatures, characters, and landscapes. 

She wore an expression of pure anxiety that Asahi felt a spiritual connection to. Her hands were alternating between tugging on the blue-dyed end of her blonde ponytail and twisting together in painful-looking knots.

“Yachi! Hitoka!” Noya called with an exuberant wave across the gallery.

Yachi jumped so hard she hit the wall against which she was standing. Her face relaxed a little when she saw Noya, though, brightening up and waving enthusiastically back. 

“Yuu!” she said in a ringing, melodic voice.

Asahi and Noya wound their way through the loitering crowd towards Yachi and her exhibit. She looked relieved at the sight of a familiar face. Bright and almost cheerful, though her hands still wrung together in front of her.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” Yachi said once Noya and Asahi stopped in front of her collection. 

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Noya beamed. 

Yachi smiled back, blushing a little but brimming with excitement. 

“Oh, and this is my boyfriend,” Noya said quickly, pointing at Asahi. “The one I’ve been talking about nonstop for like over a month.”

“Right! Yuu’s told me a lot about you,” Yachi said brightly, dipping her head.

“And you. Noya speaks extremely highly of you,” Asahi said, returning the gesture. Yachi immediately turned bright pink.

“You told… Nishinoya you’ve been talking about me-e?” Yachi asked, flustered and flushing. 

“All good things, Hitoka, all good things,” Noya assured her, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder. He let go of Asahi with a wink and moved to peruse Yachi’s work.

Yachi didn’t look convinced. Asahi wouldn’t have been either and he could actually feel the embarrassment rolling off of her in waves. She shuffled her feet and looked sidelong at Noya, mouth and face scrunched up uncomfortably. 

Asahi couldn’t count the number of times he’d felt the exact same way.

“There’s so many people here,” Asahi mumbled to Yachi, shuffling a little closer to her. “Do you know them all?”

“Oh, um, not… sort of? They’re not all in my program,” Yachi said, moving up to rub her upper arm much like Asahi did with the back of his neck.

“Are you in photography?” Asahi asked, gesturing towards her art.

“I’m, uh, actually in both photo and drawing,” Yachi said. Her lip twitched upward just a bit.  

“That’s very impressive,” Asahi said in a quiet tone that he attempted to make as gentle as possible. “I’m barely pulling through one concentration, let alone two.”

“Well, they’ve let me integrate them a bit which is really helpful,” Yachi said, dropping her shoulders a bit and actually pulling off a genuine smile. “Besides, it’s nice to major in something you like. You’re in history, yeah?”

“Area studies,” Asahi nodded. “I still have to pick a place though.”

“Oh gosh, that must be stressful,” Yachi said with genuine concern. She leaned up a little closer to Asahi, leaving the safety of the wall behind her. “Do you have a list of places?”

“It’s between two right now…”

Asahi and Yachi fell into an easy conversation. With a kiss on the cheek, Noya left them to go find Kuroo and Bokuto, wherever they’d wandered off to. It made Asahi nervous to watch Noya walk away but there was something very comforting about Yachi, something that soothed him.

“Your work is absolutely stunning, by the way,” Asahi said, gesturing towards Yachi’s photo-drawings. There was one that really caught his eye: a shinto temple with a brilliant drawing of an orange koi fish twirling around the roof and spiraling into the sky.

“Ah, thank you,” Yachi said, cheeks igniting in a flare of pink. Her fingers started twisting together again at the compliment. “They’re really… it’s not… there’s a lot of talent here.”

“That only means you’re very talented as well,” Asahi smiled. Yachi played with the hem of her skirt, eyes darting to the floor, so Asahi changed the subject. “Is Kiyoko-san here as well? I haven’t seen her yet.”

“Yes she was just—there she is! Kiki!” Yachi broke off to wave over her girlfriend. Asahi followed Yachi’s line of sight to find the beauty-marked barista Asahi had come to really enjoy the company of.

Kiyoko was, as always, a picture of beauty. She wore a simple black dress with a sweetheart neck and a flowy sort of bottom that swirled around her knees. She smiled brightly at Yachi as she walked forward with a navy, starry handbag held with both hands in front of her.

“Hello sunflower,” Kiyoko said, kissing a now flaming red Yachi on the cheek. “And Asahi-san. It’s nice to see you.”

“You as well, Kiyoko-san,” Asahi smiled. 

Watching Yachi and Kiyoko weave their fingers together made him grow very warm. They smiled at each other like they each held all of the stars and planets in their eyes. Something inside Yachi unwound. Her shoulders dropped. Her blush faded into a glow that made her whole face soften. It was so sweet.

“I, um, also don’t think we need to keep up the honorifics. If that’s okay,” Asahi continued, not wanting to ruin their moment.

They both looked at him this time, an air of serenity around them. To be young and in love… it made Asahi smile too.

Kiyoko’s own smile spread all the way up to her eyes. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. I already consider you a friend.”

Now it was Asahi’s turn to blush. His hand found his neck. He felt guilty but without Noya there to catch his wrist he couldn’t hold back a few scratches at the scabbed skin.

“What do you think of Hitoka’s work, Asahi?” Kiyoko asked, nodding towards the wall. “Isn’t she so talented? She’s been pulling all-nighters for a few weeks to get all of it done.”

“It’s beautiful,” Asahi agreed warmly. He forced his hand back to his side and focused on Yachi. Even with the flush returning to her cheeks she really was gentle.   

“Stoooopp both of you,” Yachi said, burying her face in Kiyoko’s shoulder.

Kiyoko ruffled her hair affectionately. Yachi scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend and for a moment reminded Asahi exactly of Noya. Not only Noya, but Asahi hadn’t seen two people so deliriously in love since Suga and Daichi.

“How are you doing with the crowd, sunflower?” Kiyoko asked gently.

“There’s… a lot of people… asking me a lot of quest—questions about my art,” Yachi grimaced, surveying the room with wary eyes. 

Asahi could only imagine how nerve-wracking this was for Yachi. If Asahi were in her position he would probably be hyperventilating in a corner at this point. It must have been nice for her to have Kiyoko. Just like it was nice for him to have Noya.

Where was Noya anyway? He’d been gone for quite some time.

“Have you seen Yuu, Kiyoko?” Asahi asked, craning his neck over a group of people coming to crowd around Yachi’s collection. Yachi sidled away from her girlfriend to greet the newcomers while Asahi searched the gallery for his boyfriend. 

His chest tightened when he couldn’t spot Noya’s spiked undercut.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” Kiyoko said, keeping a watchful eye on Yachi as she squeakily explained her project to the ogling onlookers. “Would you like me to help you look for him?”

“No, you should probably stay with Yachi,” Asahi said with a little half-smile. “I’ll see you later?”

Kiyoko nodded and scooted back over to Yachi while Asahi wandered away to go look for his boyfriend. He didn’t see Noya anywhere in the second room, so he wove his way through the crowd back into the main gallery.

There were a lot of people to navigate. God, there were so many people to navigate, and Asahi was so tall and bulky and awkward. People glared at him as he brushed shoulders with them, probably wondering if he was going to sell them drugs or recruit them for a gang. 

He needed to find Noya. He was doing okay with Yachi but every sideways glance, every grunt of disapproval, every whisper behind his back felt like a judgment on his character. His breathing was starting to get shallow and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and he couldn’t keep his nails from digging into the back of his neck until it stung.

Before he got more than a foot past the entrance into the main gallery, a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He let out a very undignified yelp and jumped back.

“Oh, sorry!” someone said from somewhere behind Asahi. 

He swiveled around and was met with a pair of wide, excited grey eyes and a very expensive-looking camera. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the person apologized, holding up their camera. “My name is Miyanoshita Eri. I’m a photo student here and I was wondering if you’d be willing to model a project for me?”

“Ah, um, I’m… I’m not a model,” Asahi said apologetically, blood rushing into his cheeks. 

“Oh no that’s fine,” Miyanoshita assured him. “You just look like someone who—”

“Eri! You said I could talk to him first!” another voice squeaked from over Miyanoshita’s shoulder. A pigtailed student with another highly technical camera popped up indignantly behind the first.

“Well, you were taking forever so I assumed you weren’t gonna do it anymore,” Miyanoshita shot back. “Go talk to Kuroo-san if you need someone.”

Everyone in their immediate vicinity was watching the interaction out of the corners of their eyes. Some leaned over, nodding towards them with disdain.

Sweat trickled down Asahi’s cheek. His fingers were going numb.

_ Please stop arguing, please stop talking everyone is starting to stare... _

“Come on, everyone uses Kuroo-san for their projects! This guy is so much more unique than anyone else,” the other argued, shoving her way forward and brandishing her camera in Asahi’s face. “I’m a senior photo student so I should honestly get model priority at this point.”

“Yeah but since you’re a senior you already have a fantastic portfolio! I gotta beef mine up if I’m ever getting hired!” Miyanoshita countered.

“You’ll do just fine with Kuroo-san. Everyone else does,” the second spat loudly.

More eyes. More whispers. They were making a scene. They were making a scene and Asahi was going to embarrass Yachi even more. What if he upset her? Made her cry? They were surely watching everything going on and watching as Asahi was too cowardly to stop it and he felt something between humiliation and anger pricking at the corner of his eyes.

_ Oh god please lower your voice... _

“We could also ask  _ him _ what he wants,” Miyanoshita pointed out, gesturing emphatically at Asahi. “Do you wanna model for either one of us?”

Asahi was frozen. His mouth opened and shut but absolutely no sound was coming out. Both students were looking at him with brows raised in expectation and Asahi suddenly felt like he was inside a nuclear reactor. He scratched at the back of his neck, growing redder and redder as the seconds ticked by because he had absolutely no idea what to do with being fought over.

Oh god, he didn’t want to disappoint either of them. Was he allowed to say yes to both? Why were they glaring at him like he’d done something wrong? Why wouldn’t any words come out of his stupid mouth? Why was he sweating so much and he couldn’t fucking speak what was  _ wrong with him. _

“I… I… I’m not… I don’t…” Asahi stuttered as his mind went blank with panic. 

“Come on, just tell us who you want to go with. What’s wrong with you?” the second student said crossly, folding her arms across her chest. 

“Stop pressuring him, what the hell is wrong with  _ you _ ?” the first girl said, shoving the other in the shoulder.

“We need an answer or we’re going to fail this project!” the second yelled.

_ Please stop yelling dear god... _

Now, at least half the gallery was staring at them. Asahi felt each pair of eyes pierce him and twist like fishhooks into his skin. There was wetness at the corner of his eyes and he wanted to run, wanted to bolt but his feet were glued to the floor and he still couldn’t form a coherent sentence. 

He was so panicked his vision was starting to go. He couldn’t even see clearly. Had he stopped breathing?

Somewhere behind him, a hand came down to clamp firmly down on his shoulder and Asahi jumped so hard he almost ran into Miyanoshita. His head whipped sideways as he was met with Kuroo’s sly grin. His grip on Asahi’s shoulder was vice-like, but seeing a familiar face made Asahi’s pulse go from heart-attack to just-ran-a-mile, which was something at least.

“Are you two bothering my friend here?” Kuroo said pleasantly, though the fire in his eyes spoke volumes differently. “You know if you need a model so badly you could just come to me.”

“Everyone comes to you, Kuroo-san,” Miyanoshita said, rolling her eyes. “We want our projects to be different.”

“I think I’ve got just the person for you,” Kuroo said, pulling Asahi back a little like he was trying to drag him out of the heat of the conversation. “I can go get him now and you can stop interrogating my friend.”

“Nuh-uh, how do we know you won’t just blow us off?” the second student said, following Asahi with a stubborn step forward.

“I’ll be back in a moment, you can hold me to it. I promise you won’t find anyone more… unique, than my friend Bokuto,” Kuroo said, crossing his heart.

Both girls shared a skeptical look but Miyanoshita shrugged and said “Fine. But if you aren’t back in five minutes we’re gonna hunt you the hell down.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll be right back,” Kuroo agreed. With that, he pulled Asahi away from Miyanoshita and her peer and guided Asahi away from the conversation.

All eyes were still on Asahi after that shouting match, whispers and judgemental looks from all of these well-established, polished art patrons and Asahi was going to vomit. 

He’d caused a scene. He was still causing a scene. Every single one of these people was going to remember him as the guy who got into a screaming match at the student art show, they were going to know he was just some unsophisticated history nerd and he was going to be “that guy” that all the students and professors talked about and laughed at behind his back and—oh god, he was going to be an embarrassment to  _ Yachi too _ . He was going to smear her reputation and upset her and make her anxious oh god, oh god what had he done—

“Hey, take a deep breath,” Kuroo whispered into Asahi’s ear as they wound their way through the crowd. Everything was such a blur Asahi didn’t even know where they were going. “They’re both pretentious little shits. You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?”

Asahi couldn’t do anything but nod. He wasn’t even sure why he was nodding. Asahi had absolutely done wrong, done everything wrong and all of Noya’s friends were going to see him for the true pathetic, flimsy coward that he was.

And he couldn’t even see straight. His vision was starting to narrow as it swerved even more out of focus, like looking through a misaligned telescope. There was the rushing of blood in his ears, distorting Kuroo’s voice, making it seem like everything was happening underwater. Breathing was still hard. His hands and forehead were dripping with sweat. His knees were shaky, but Kuroo guided him, let Asahi lean some of his weight onto his shoulder as he pushed them unabashedly through the crowd. 

Where was Noya? He wanted Noya. He wanted Noya...

They stopped right in front of something solid with a glass window. It looked like it might have a handle too, if the room would stop spinning around him. Kuroo reached out and grabbed someone else indiscernible by the collar, probably someone to throw Asahi out once and for all.

“Hey, Yuu, take Asahi and get out of here, okay?” Kuroo said to the person held by his other hand. “Some stupid fucks gave him a panic attack. Make sure he’s okay.”

“Can do,” a familiar, twittering voice responded.

Before Asahi had time to process anything, a warm hand was wrapping itself firmly in his and he was being pulled away yet again.

Noya pushed open the door and led Asahi out into the cool, crisp air of the night. Asahi blinked. Everything was dark and bright all at once. The air smelled like rain and hot sidewalk. It was a little easier to breathe out here, with Noya pressing firmly into his side as they walked away from the gallery.

But he couldn’t get his body under control. The world still spun and there was still a brace around his lungs, constricting them, and sweat poured off of him like he’d just gotten out of a shower.

_ I fucked up. I fucked up. I’m so sorry Noya I fucked up. I fucked up. _

“It’s okay Azu,” Noya’s quiet, calm voice said somewhere far, far away from him. “Just focus on me, okay? I got you.”

Asahi tried to believe him. He swallowed hard and nodded and felt each callous and burn mark in Noya’s palm.

He let himself get dragged into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to clarify that Noya showing his scars is a very intimate act for him specifically. It’s not an intimate act for all trans people to show someone visible marks from transitioning, but it commonly is. Always respect your partner/friend and their desires to show different parts of their body. For some, showing off scars can be an act of empowerment, some don’t really think it’s intimate or not intimate, while others choose to only show people they feel close to. When I take off my binder in front of people it is an intimate act of trust, but not everyone feels that way.
> 
> It’s important to respect people and how they decide to treat their bodies.
> 
> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	9. Pain and Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“The sooner you learn that the people you love are just people, the better,” Suga said. “You see us as heroes because you see yourself as the villain. But no one is a hero or a villain. We’re all just people, trying to survive.”_

The only thing on Noya’s mind was getting Asahi into a comfortable environment as soon as possible. He wasn't really thinking about where that might be, so he headed towards their— _ his _ apartment in hope of finding something. 

Asahi’s breath was coming short and shallow and he wouldn’t stop shaking. His palms were clammy and he was sweating like he'd just run a mile. His eyes were wide and unblinking. He sucked in air quick and fast through his nose, like he wasn't getting enough oxygen, but his jaw was clamped shut. His body was rigid as a steel rod, even as he shivered. 

Noya wanted to fucking drop-kick those photo students. And maybe himself too. He shouldn't have left Asahi to fend for himself like that. 

Not that Asahi needed to be babysat, but it was okay to need someone familiar as a social flotation device. Noya had promised he’d do that, and he hadn’t. He’d broken his word.

He wanted to beat himself with a metaphorical bat but he didn’t have time for that right then. He had to help. Had to  _ do something _ .

Noya continued to hold Asahi's hand as they walked down the street. Asahi was tactile, and anything to keep that hand off his neck was good. He didn’t say anything, though. With Yachi, it was usually good to let her come back to her surroundings on her own. Waiting was just hell for Noya. He counted the streetlamps to keep himself from talking.

_ One. Two. Three. Four. Five—that one’s out. Six. Another one out. Seven. _

It was about a block down the road when Asahi seemed to become aware that they weren't at the gala anymore. He blinked, adjusting to the night, and thank  _ god  _ a bit of that tension rolled from his shoulders. 

His eyes wandered down to Noya, still wide with panic, but he at least seemed to know where he was. 

"Can you talk now Asahi?" Noya asked instantly, like it had been building momentum in his mouth for the past five minutres. 

There was a pause, like there was a processing delay between the sounds and Asahi's brain, but he eventually nodded. Very slowly, but sure. 

"Yes,” he said in a strained, crackling voice. Then he seemed to change his mind. “ No. I’m not sure.” 

"That's okay, we're gonna do our best,”  Noya smiled. He remembered an activity that Kiyoko often did with Yachi when she was swarmed by a crowd and figured there was no downside to trying it out here. “I'm going to have you do an exercise with me. It's wicked simple, I know you'll do great." 

"An…exercise?” Asahi said, panic in his voice rising, gripping Noya’s hand for dear life. “I’m not sure I can move really…”

“A verbal exercise, I won’t be asking you to do jumping jacks or anything,” Noya explained with a chuckle. 

Asahi thought for a moment. His grip relaxed just a bit and he seemed to decide that a non-physical exercise was doable.

“Okay. I guess.”

"Sweet. We can stop if it gets too much,” Noya assured him with a squeeze of their hands. It wasn’t much but Noya was going to work with anything he could at this point. “Can you tell me five things you can see?" 

A momentary tightening of his grip. More sweat. Held breath.

"Noya, I don’t know…” Asahi murmured, barely more than a whisper.

“Hey, you got this. Take ‘em one at a time, as slow as you need,”  Noya encouraged in his gentlest voice, which he didn’t feel was very gentle. He felt that maybe he shouldn’t push, shouldn’t make Asahi do something, but he needed something to happen.

Maybe it was selfish. He didn’t know. He didn’t have time to dwell really.

Anyway, Asahi exhaled with a heavy nod after a moment, which was probably a good sign.

“Okay, okay. The… the lampposts, that laundromat, um...um…” Asahi fumbled between each item, looking around frantically, but his eyes were starting to return to a less circular shape. “I—I can see your hair, the trees, and that old car." 

"That car's pretty slick, I've always liked old cars,” Noya said, nodding at the Jaguar Asahi was looking at. 

“Really?” Asahi  said, his voice cracking a little. “Er, I guess that makes sense, since you like engines,”  he quickly corrected, looking cross with himself. 

_ Shit, quash that right now. _

“Yeah. They’ve like, got a lot of history, you know? Plus the engines are beyond cool,” Noya said enthusiastically. Asahi blinked a few times and his grip was a little less deathly. Noya was elated. He couldn't break momentum. “Anyway, can you tell me four things you can touch?" 

“Right,” Asahi said. He nibbled his lip, but his breathing was evening out a little. “Your hand, obviously. Uh...I could touch your shirt if I reached forward. My shirt and...my hair. It's really gross and sweaty."  

His nose wrinkled as he reached up to twirl a lock. Noya was proud as hell when his hand bypassed his neck and fell back down to his side. 

"So is mine. The gel is starting to sweat off and it is nasty,” Noya said, mimicking the scrunch of Asahi's face.

“It doesn’t look bad though,” Asahi said quickly. It wasn't meant to be a compliment but Noya still grew warm from it. 

“Neither does yours,” Noya said genuinely. Asahi immediately turned bright red, so Noya moved on. “What about three things you can hear?"

Asahi had to really concentrate for this one, and the act of bringing himself into the world, of focusing on specific noises, slowed his breathing considerably. This was usually where Yachi started to really come down too. Noya couldn't have been happier that Asahi's body grew just a little less stiff as well.

"I can hear… some cars a little way away. Our footsteps and… cicadas," he decided. It was a much surer statement than the ones before.

"I've always hated cicadas,” Noya said, sticking his tongue out. “They make it sound like the trees are screaming."

Asahi chuckled weakly and Noya's face lit up. Asahi was doing so well, and they were getting into a more familiar area of town. Asahi was even looking around them, glancing at shops he knew and looking a bit more at ease because of it. 

"You're doing awesome Asahi!” Noya cheered proudly. “We're almost done. This one might seem weird but just roll with it, okay? Can you name two things you can smell?"

That one seemed to throw Asahi for a bit of a loop but he didn't tense up too much. 

“Smell? I can’t…I can’t really smell much.”

“Just focus, it’s just two things,” Noya said. When Asahi’s mouth tugged at a frown, he added, “I know you got this.”

"Okay,” Asahi agreed. He inhaled deep, which helped calm the tidal waves of his chest even more. “I can smell… rain. Like…  humidity. And gasoline."

Noya grinned. They were almost done and Asahi's voice wasn't shaking anymore. 

"It’s pretty cloudy for sure, it'll probably rain before we can get home. Sweet okay one more thing: how about one thing you want to taste?"

"Ramen,” Asahi said immediately, rubbing his stomach. “I didn't have dinner."

Like clockwork they ended their exercise near a little strip mall about three blocks down from the apartment. Bokuto's favorite ramen place was there and Noya was hungry too. He placed a hand on his stomach as it loudly reminded him that he hadn't had as many of those little appetizers at the gala as he'd liked. 

"Well you're in luck because we just got to the best ramen joint this side of Tokyo!” Noya said, pointing at the backlit sign of the little local shop. “Plus it's open until three am which is the best part. Late night ramen is the bomb."

“Okay,” Asahi said, and there was an almost-but-not-quite smile lifting his lips.

The place was uncharacteristically empty. Nearly all the tables were vacant, and those that weren’t were occupied by tired and, more importantly, quiet college students. No florescent lights or loud noises to aggravate Asahi’s nerves.

Noya picked them out a booth by the window so Asahi could look out at the street. They watched the few cars that were still out roll by the window while Noya ordered for both of them. 

Noya didn’t say anything. He held both of Asahi’s hands with his and studied his face while Asahi’s eyes followed the passing headlights and pedestrians. He waited for Asahi’s jaw to unclench, for the flutter of his shirt to still as his breath evened out. He looked at Asahi with concern, and he thought about how he felt helpless in that moment because Asahi needed to come down on his own. 

So he just waited. Across the table, the streetlights scrolled shadows across Asahi’s skin. As his body settled back into a resting rhythm—the rise and fall of his chest, the set of his jaw, the tension in his hands—he started to move a little more. He tapped his foot, bounced his legs, started fidgeting his fingers between Noya’s. 

When he twitched a hand away from Noya, reaching for the back of his neck, Noya broke the silence.

“Wait, Azu,” Noya said on instinct, grabbing Asahi’s wrist. Asahi’s entire body tensed, eyes darting to Noya’s face and his chest seizing up entirely. He looked like a trapped animal.

“I’m sorry I just… do you need to?” Noya asked hesitantly.

Asahi nodded furiously, eyes widening again, so Noya let go of his wrist. Asahi jerked it away and immediately scrabbled at his neck, fingernails digging into his skin in earnest. Noya’s stomach twisted painfully to watch him, knowing he was picking away scabs and creating new gashes in his skin.

Asahi caught his eye, must have seen Noya’s pained expression, because his posture deflated and he looked ashamed. 

“Sorry,” Noya said, not sure what else to say.

“No,” Asahi said, voice still a little weak. “I… I know it’s not the best but…”

“It’s fine, Asahi,” Noya said with a slightly forced smile. “It’s fine.”

The word “fine” came out of his mouth in a much more venomous way than he’d meant it to, and it landed like a slap on Asahi’s face. He blinked once, face and body frozen, before the brown of his irises grew suddenly muddy. His eyes fell back to the table and his jaw clicked as he locked his mouth shut tight. 

Fuck.

_ Fuck. _

“I’m sorry, it’s really okay, I’m just worried about you, you know?” Noya blathered quickly. “Maybe it would be a good idea for us to come up with some kind of alternative for you? Something that won’t rub away all the skin on your neck. I can even help you think of some things.”

Noya manufactured a laugh, one that cracked artificially through the air and only pulled the atmosphere taut rather than alleviating the tension. Asahi’s lips scrunched up and he turned to look out the window.

“Okay. Whatever you want,” he said tonelessly. 

Asahi’s gaze fell down to the table and everything about him went flat—his expression, the brown of his eyes, the way he held his body. Just… deadened almost.

Noya’s hands balled into fists on the table, his nails digging hard into his palms. His own brain was going into overdrive, trying to think of what to say or do.

If this had been Yachi, he could have suggested an alternative. He could have distracted her. But Asahi… he was slowly retreating into himself and it made Noya want to punch himself in the face. 

The waiter came with their food before Noya had a chance to say anything. They ate in silence—a horribly uncomfortable silence. Noya wryly realized that this was really the first uncomfortable silence they’d experienced together, the first time where Noya felt both pressured to speak and completely stumped for what to say. 

Asahi’s eyes stayed glued to his food. He scooped noodles and vegetables into his mouth bionically, an automatic kind of movement. Like he was off somewhere else, somewhere far away.

Noya wanted him to feel affirmed. He wanted Asahi to know that he wasn’t angry, that he wasn’t judging him for his habits regardless of how harmful they were. That Noya was so happy to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t upset about Asahi’s panic attack, that there were no ill feelings on his end. 

He felt helpless. Powerless. The moment of crisis was gone but the tension between the two of them was somehow even more palpable now. 

“You know, I’m really proud of you Azu,” Noya said about halfway through their meal, feeling like he was going to explode if he didn’t say something. 

“Thanks,” Asahi said in a tone just as dead as before. It was just one word but it felt like a cold, steel punch to his heart. 

“No really,” Noya pressed, because Asahi was throwing up walls and Noya was jittery with fear. “You’re so strong, and like, super brave for even coming with me tonight! And none of us care that we had to run out of there, I promise.”

Asahi just grunted.

Noya frowned. He thought about maybe reaching forward to take Asahi’s chin, force eye-contact, make Asahi believe him. But that probably wasn’t a good idea. In fact, somewhere, he knew that he needed to shut up, but he kept pushing because he was an idiot.

“Seriously, Kuroo and Bokuto and Yachi—they all totally understand. They all deal with their own shit so they would never judge you, I really do promise that, and I don’t mind—er, I mean it obviously sucks ass that you have to deal with it but I don’t think any less of you because of it. I mean, why would I? It just makes you—or, what I mean is—”

“Nishinoya,” Asahi interrupted curtly, and everything about Noya tightened up at the edge in his voice. “Stop.”

He inhaled deeply, eyes still fixed to his dinner, gripping his chopsticks so hard they looked like they might snap right in two. They trembled ever so slightly in his fingers though the rest of him was so rigid he looked like a statue.

“I know you’re trying to help,” he said just as sharply. “But I need you to stop. Please.”

Noya clamped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth. 

He didn’t say anything after that, and neither did Asahi. It was torture. Worse than torture. They paid their checks in a silence so tangible Noya felt like he might choke on it. 

They were silent walking out of the restaurant, Noya with his hands shoved into his pockets and Asahi worrying his neck. They were silent as they walked down the street towards Noya's apartment, standing a good foot or so apart. They were silent for blocks and blocks and blocks and Noya felt like he was either going to cry or scream so he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. 

They didn't even look at each other. 

Noya's mouth was swollen and tasted like metal by the time they got back to his apartment. Asahi stopped outside the front door to Noya's building. 

Noya's chest and stomach were filling up with ice. He had to fight to the urge to run up and wrap both his arms around Asahi's middle. Kiss any kind of emotion into Asahi's statuesque face. 

“Do you… Wanna come inside?” Noya offered, though he knew he was setting himself up for disappointment. “Kuroo and Bo are probably back.”

“Uh, I'm probably gonna head home actually. Pretty tired,” Asahi said, eyes flicking only for a moment to Noya's face. 

He didn't even look upset. It was like someone had unplugged him. 

Still, Noya tried to force a smile. 

“Yeah of course. Text me when you get home safe?” he said as sweetly as he could manage. His mouth trembled as he tried to perk up the corners. 

Asahi nodded. He smiled. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was soft and relaxed and Noya hoped it was as genuine as it looked. 

“Thank you,” he said in a low rumble. “And I'm—”

“Nope,” Noya interrupted. “No reason to be sorry. It's a rough night.”

Asahi's mouth scrunched up again but his eyes weren't as harsh. He nodded again, shuffling his feet, kicking a rock that clattered across the sidewalk towards a potted plant by the front doors. They stood there for a moment, and even with the air still tight and uncomfortable, Noya couldn't help but thinking that the yellowing light of the street lamps made Asahi glow beautifully.

“Okay,” Asahi said eventually. He opened and closed his mouth a few more times, staring at the ground before continuing, “I feel rude for asking but can I have a kiss before I go? I know things are weird right now…”

Noya closed the distance between them before Asahi finished his thought. He was careful not to touch him, but he was close enough for Asahi to reach forward easily if he wanted to. He leaned forward, lips parted slightly, and Asahi captured them with both hands on Noya’s cheeks.

It felt so odd. Nothing like any kiss they’d shared before. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it didn’t feel right. Out of sync, almost, like a video that couldn’t keep up with its audio. Noya was still grateful for the contact. 

It didn’t last long, definitely not more than a few seconds, before Asahi pulled away. His mouth was slack, and he didn’t look happy, but he didn’t look as upset. Other than a slight furrow in his brow, he seemed content. For now, at least.

“Well,” Noya said, voice scratchy and wet, “I’m gonna go inside now, if that’s okay.”

“Sure, sure,” Asahi said, hand on his neck again. God, what Noya wouldn’t give to never have to see that gesture again. 

With strenuous effort, Noya stepped away and backed towards the front doors again.

“Goodnight,” Noya said as the doors to his building slid open. There was such a tight heaviness in his gut. He didn’t want to say that word. He wanted Asahi to stay, but he knew better than to keep pushing.

He wanted closure, but he knew he wasn’t going to get that tonight. So he let Asahi smile weakly and wave him away with a “goodnight Noya” before he turned and walked away. 

Noya watched him retreat until he disappeared around a corner and into the darkness of the night.

Bokuto and Kuroo were lounging on the couch when Noya opened the door to his apartment. They were watching some TV show about something Noya didn’t care about in complete darkness, cuddled up together under a blanket. The ambiance created from the glow of the TV blueing their faces, their proximity to each other, almost made Noya laugh.

Bokuto’s head whipped over to look at Noya as the door clicked shut. He was all toothy and bright with his smile, exhaustingly excited just like always.

Noya hated that look in that moment.

“Little bird!” he said cheerfully. “We were wondering when you’d—what’s wrong?”

His head fell to the side, smile fading as he took in Noya’s face. Noya couldn’t remember when he’d started crying, wasn’t even aware of how constricted his airway was and how leadened his chest felt until both of his friends were looking at him with concern. 

“I—nothing,” Noya lied thickly. He cleared his throat unconvincingly but he was too tired to put up much pretense. “It’s just… been a long night.”

“Did something happen with Asahi?” Kuroo asked over Bokuto’s shoulder.

Noya shrugged. “Kinda. I don’t know if I wanna talk about it.”

Kuroo nodded and patted the open cushion next to him. Noya was inclined to refuse him and collapse onto his bed, but he knew he probably wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon, despite the exhaustion that gripped every bone in his body. He begrudgingly flopped down beside Kuroo, eyes fluttering shut and head lolling back. The tears were drying on his cheeks now but he couldn’t muster enough energy to wipe them away.

He half-sat, half-lay in that position for a long time. Neither Kuroo nor Bokuto said anything to him. They continued to watch their show in relative quiet (meaning Bokuto talked in his whisper-shout about a half-dozen times instead of every other second), but they didn’t address him.

There weren’t any truly coherent thoughts in Noya’s brain at that moment. It was just the hurt expression on Asahi’s face that twisted into Noya’s chest like the venomous fang of a snake. Just the way he pulled away from Noya like Noya was a flame he couldn’t touch. Just how Noya suddenly felt, for the first time, like Asahi didn’t see him as a safe space.

Just how much that fucking  _ hurt _ .

“I fucked up,” Noya said after a long stretch of silence, when the image of Asahi’s crestfallen expression threatened to push more tears from his eyes. “I really fucked up and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“How did you fuck up?” Kuroo asked, turning his head to look at Noya. “Did his panic attack get worse?”

Noya shook his head and buried the heels of his hands in his eyes. He let out a strangled noise somewhere between a grunt and a loud groan of displeasure. “No, the panic attack was fine in the end. I mean, I got him to calm down at least. But then I told him to stop rubbing his neck and he completely shut down on me. Like, hardcore just turned off like a robot. Or, no, that isn’t—I don’t mean he’s a robot. He just stopped talking and it was like he was a turtle and he was curling up into his shell.”

“I see,” Kuroo said tonelessly. 

When he didn’t say anything else, Noya’s lips pulled down suspiciously. “What?”

“I just see where he’s coming from, that’s all,” Kuroo shrugged, turning back to the TV. 

“Yeah?” Noya asked gruffly.

“I mean, you took away a coping mechanism in the middle of a crisis. I’d probably shut down too,” Kuroo explained. So calmly while he pumped more poison through Noya’s already guilt-saturated blood.

“Yeah, I fucking know,” he very nearly spat. Kuroo flinched a little, like the harshness of the words struck a physical blow. More guilt. Noya sighed, trying to compose himself because he didn’t want to do any more damage to his close relationships tonight. “Sorry. I’m just… frustrated. With myself. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo said, offering a small smile. “I get it.”

“I just… The last thing he needed was for his boyfriend to do any more damage,” Noya said. “I should have just let him do his thing.”

“You were just tryin’ to help lil’ bird,” Bokuro piped up. “That’s what counts.”

“I screwed up,” Noya insisted. “Don’t try to excuse it.”

“I’m not!” Bokuro said defensively. 

“It isn’t an excuse, Noya, just a reason,” Kuroo cut back in. “Nothing unfixable. We all screw up sometimes.”

“I guess,” Noya said begrudgingly. “Pretty much the worst time to screw up, though. In my opinion.”

Noya sighed again and fell sideways on the sofa, tucking his knees up to his chest like an egg. He kind of wished he were an egg. He felt like one. Felt like his outer shell might shatter if Bokuto or Kuroo rocked him too hard, that his insides were on the verge of scrambling. 

He tried not to think too much. He wasn't really into whatever show they were watching but tuned in anyway. 

It was easier than thinking or feeling what his body was trying to think and feel. 

About an episode or two in and Noya was pulled back to reality by an angry buzzing in his pocket. It took a moment for him to register the movement at all, and another still for him to realize it was his phone. 

It was Asahi. 

Noya felt dizzy with relief and worry, and flicked his messages open as fast as his fumbling fingers would move. 

 

_ [22:01]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ Home safe _

[22:02]  **Noya:** I'm glad :) 

_ [22:02]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ :)  _

_ [22:05]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ I'm really sorry about tonight… _

[22:05]  **Noya:** I understand but it’s okay, really  <3

[22:07]  **Noya:** Are you feeling better??

_ [22:08]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ Kinda _

_ [22:08]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ I just got overwhelmed. I don’t like compliments in general so. _

[22:09]  **Noya:** Totally, I’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable

_ [22:10]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ It’s fine _

_ [22:11]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ I’m gonna go to bed. Night? _

[22:11]  **Noya:** Night  <3

_ [22:12]  _ **_Azu <3:_ ** _ <3 _

 

Asahi woke up the next morning feeling like his eyelids were made of lead. It took him ages to even crack open his eyes to look at the clock, his neck moving like a rubberband left overnight in the freezer. 

It was later in the morning, but not late enough for Asahi to feel like the day was being wasted. He’d gotten a good amount of sleep, so there really wasn’t a reason for his body to be working in aching slow-motion. 

No reason other than the massive onslaught of anxiety that had wrecked his body the previous night. All the tension he’d held for the evening made his muscles as sore as if he’d just done double practices. There was also something sitting heavy in his gut, something beyond a physical weight. 

With a groan, he managed to heave himself out of bed and into more comfortable clothes. He’d come back last night tired to the bone, talked to Suga and Daichi for a hot minute, and then collapsed into his bed still wearing his nice outfit. He changed into a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, tying up his hair—still slick with oil and sweat—and shuffled into the livingroom.

The apartment smelled wonderful, as it always did whenever his roommates cooked. A mixture of sweet baking, cinnamon, and bacon or sausage wafted from the kitchen. It was delicious, and Asahi perked up just a bit as he wandered into the dining area.

Suga and Daichi bustled around the kitchen together, weaving in and out like a dance even though the space barely allowed for one person, let alone two. 

Asahi sat down with a warm but slightly bitter smile and watched them. It was effortless—Suga reaching around Daichi for the cinnamon sugar and pinching his ass as he went, Daichi’s reflexive and playful swipe at Suga’s hair, a shared kiss as Daichi flipped some sausage over in a pan, swapping places for Suga to pull rolls out of the oven and Daichi to transfer the meat to a plate. Suga laughed as Daichi swatted his butt with a towel, which made Daichi laugh, and then they were both laughing and touching and moving together like they already knew what the other person was going to do. 

Connected.

It was cute but it also made Asahi think about how out-of-sync he’d been with Noya last night. How Noya had definitely helped but everything had become so muddled and confusing. 

How could two people be as intertwined as Suga and Daichi?

“Asa!” Suga exclaimed as he spotted Asahi with a trayful of rolls. “Did you just get up?”

“Yeah, it was a long night,” Asahi said with a little half-smile. 

Suga smiled and nodded sympathetically, with those quietly empathetic eyes of his. Eyes that had always been a safety blanket for Asahi. Made him feel safe and heard.

“I got the idea when you came home,” he said, sprinkling some of the cinnamon sugar on the rolls before setting them down before Asahi on the table. “What happened? Did something go wrong at the gala?”

And Asahi frowned. Again. His mouth was settling into that shape so much it felt like it might start to stick.

“I… sort of. I had a panic attack.”

Suga’s features, and his whole body, slumped. “Oh no, Asa…”

“Are you feeling better today?” Daichi cut in, bringing the rest of the food to the table along with a few cups of coffee (he had very big hands). 

“I’m not sure,” Asahi said. “There’s… a lot.”

“Well,” Daichi said, plopping down at the table on one side of Asahi, Suga on the other, “we have all morning.”

Suga began serving them all up some food, Daichi crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows expectantly. Asahi’s frown deepened. Why did they always make him talk about stuff he didn’t want to talk about?

“It’ll be good for you,” Daichi said firmly.

“He’s right, you can’t bottle your feelings up Asa,” Suga agreed, handing a plate to Asahi with a pointed look.

“We’re not going to let you keep getting away with—”

“I know!” Asahi snapped, setting his plate down with a clatter. 

It was almost a shout. Suga flinched and Daichi blinked in surprise. Asahi would have felt guilty—when was the last time he’d lost his cool with Daichi and Suga?—but his heart was throbbing so hard he felt blood rush in his ears.

“I know,” he said a little more evenly, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help but just… I know, okay? I know how bad I am and I also really wish people knew how hard I’m trying.”

Suga and Daichi exchanged an unreadable look, one that just made Asahi’s pulse pound painfully against his ribs. He scowled and stabbed at his roll with a chopstick, pushing it around his plate but not eating.

“Asahi,” Suga said softly, “what happened last night?”

Asahi gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. His blood was boiling and his eyes felt wet which only made him get hotter, more explosive. He wanted to yell. He wanted to break something. He gripped his chopsticks so hard he could feel them splintering beneath his hands and he clenched his jaw because he was absolutely  _ not _ going to cry right now.

“I had a panic attack,” he said flatly.

“You said that already,” Daichi said. Asahi glared at him, but he didn’t flinch. “Come on. Talk to us. What happened?”

“Did Nishinoya not react well?” Suga pressed gently.

Asahi shook his head. He set his utensils down and rubbed his temples. He inhaled deep through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, then again, and again until he felt his pulse slow and the heat in his veins started to cool.

They were only trying to help.

“No, he reacted great actually,” Asahi said after he’d calmed himself down a bit. “He… he did a thing a lot like the stuff you help me with, Suga. And it was fine but then we went to get dinner and it just… I don’t know. I really don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it but something he said just… Ugh. I don’t know how to explain it. We just felt so… off. Does that make any goddamn sense?”

To his surprise, Daichi and Suga were both nodding, faces smooth and mouths turned up sympathetically. Not pityingly, he reminded himself, but understandingly. They knew him. They didn’t feel sorry for him.

Right?

Right.

“That definitely makes sense,” Suga said, reaching across the table to pat Asahi’s arm. He stiffened a little but didn’t pull away. Suga’s hands were soft and warm. “Do you remember what he said that made things tense between the two of you?”

“He… was trying to get me to stop rubbing my neck,” Asahi said slowly. “I know he was just trying to help but…”

But what? Why had it upset him so much? Noya was trying to take care of him but for some reason the way he’d said “it’s fine” made Asahi want to either cry or throw something.

He was spared from further explanation, though, by a loud series of knocks at their door. Suga’s brows furrowed and he looked at Daichi, who shrugged in equal confusion.

“Sorry,” Suga said, getting to his feet to answer the door.

Asahi and Daichi shrugged in unison. For a moment, the absolute clusterfuck of emotions turning Asahi’s insides into mush gave way to curiosity and he was able to calm down a little more. As far as he knew, they weren’t expecting anyone—and judging from Daichi’s narrowed eyes he was correct.

Suga opened the door, but the angle made it impossible for Asahi to see who was on the other side. 

“Hello—oh my gosh, hi! What a surprise!” Suga chirped enthusiastically.

Asahi looked at Daichi, who raised his hands and looked just befuddled as ever.

“Sorry to barge in unexpectedly but is Asahi here?”

Asahi's heart double-beat, then flatlined. The oxygen left his brain and his blood pressure dropped so suddenly he very nearly passed out. 

His body was being just about as extra as his brain but honestly that slightly scratchy, gritty voice was just about the last thing he'd expected to hear that day and he did not deal well with surprises physiologically or psychologically. 

“Of course, of course, come in! Leave your shoes on that little milk crate if you don't mind,” Suga said exuberantly. “Let me take that from you.” 

“Hey thanks,” the voice said, followed by a disembodied, tattooed arm passing a glass baking dish to Suga, who nearly tripped over himself as he bounded out of the way. 

Daichi, the only one in the room to never have heard that voice, had his face drawn into harder, even more bewildered lines as a blond frond peeked out from around the corner while Noya took his shoes off. Suga's solemnity from before had evaporated and he was vibrating with excitement. 

Asahi didn't know how to feel. The warmth of the sun burned in his chest like it always did when he was with Noya, but the burning had an acrid flavor to it as it lapped the back of his throat and seeped into his stomach. He hadn't had time to process anything that had happened like that. He wasn't sure whether he was still miffed at Noya or mad at himself or guilty or relieved or a combination of all of those emotions. 

So he stayed put, lips pursed, as Suga set the dish down on the table and hurried back to Noya. It was filled with sweets. 

Asahi's heart squeezed painfully. 

Noya appeared fully from around the corner, in a casual graphic tee and jeans and a soft, almost remorseful smile on his face. His shoulders curved in and he looked so much smaller than he ever had before. He played self-consciously with his pinky. 

This boy, who always took up the most space in any room regardless of who he was with, was suddenly terrifyingly small. Like he was trying to shrink. 

“Hey,” he said when Asahi didn't speak. “Sorry to, uh, show up so unexpectedly.”

“It's okay,” Asahi said without conviction. The room was so tense it felt like the apartment might shatter if someone applied any pressure at all to it. 

“I'm sorry to be that asshole, but who are you?” Daichi cut in like he couldn't feel how constricting the air was. 

“Oh hi, I'm so sorry,” Noya said, turning to Daichi with a cordial dip of the head. “I'm Nishinoya Yuu. Er, just Noya actually. Or Nishinoya. Yuu is fine too, I guess, but it's whatever you want really…”

He trailed off, pink creeping into his cheeks. All Daichi did was unfurl himself a little and nod his understanding. 

“Ah, so you're Asahi's boyfriend.”

“Yeah, that's me. I take it you're, uh, Daichi? And Suga?” Noya asked, looking at each in turn. “Asahi's told me a lot about you two, so, it's really nice to finally meet you. Sorry I'm being super awkward right now. I debated whether or not I should even come ‘cuz I didn't wanna pry.”

He glanced at Asahi and the flush in his cheeks deepened. His eyes were the color of burnt caramel—a dulled brownish-gold full of unnecessary apologies. 

“Well you're more than welcome here always!” Suga said. He pulled out a chair for Noya and bustled into the kitchen to grab a plate so Noya could join them for breakfast. 

Noya sat with a quietly polite “thank you” in the chair opposite Asahi. They shot each other the most uncomfortable sidelong glances but wouldn't look each other in the eye. It felt like a highschool fight, and Asahi was burning alive with the need to clear the air. Tell Noya he was hurt. And sorry. And cared so, so much about him.

“I hope you like breakfast food,” Suga trilled, sweeping a plate before Noya. 

His cheer was in complete, endearing contrast to the tepid atmosphere. Daichi watched on, ever the quiet observer, though he seemed more interested in examining Noya than scrutinizing the discomfort of the situation.

“I love breakfast food,” Noya said in something close to his customer service voice. “Thank you so much. I brought some, um, baked stuff that my roommates helped me make. One of them has never touched an oven before in his life so hopefully they aren’t the worst things you’ve ever put in your mouths.”

He laughed nervously. Asahi didn’t like that sound. 

“Bokuto?” he asked. 

Noya started at the gruff rumble of Asahi’s voice. Then his mouth split wide in a facsimile of that smile Asahi had fallen in love with.

“Actually no, Bokuto helped mix sh—stuff since we don’t have a stand mixer and he has massive arms,” Noya chattered, flexing his bicep for effect. “It was Iwa, who literally didn’t even know how to turn the oven on and turned on all four gas stovetops before he found the right switch. We didn’t let him touch anything hot after that.”

Suga laughed, leaning in towards Noya over his plate, and Daichi unfurled his arms with a hearty chuckle. 

“Do you cook often, Nishinoya?” Suga asked, leaning his cheek into his hand. 

“Noya is fine, and yeah I actually love to cook, especially with my roommates. Neither of them is, like, super good at it or anything but they both try real hard and one of ‘em—Kuroo—he likes to draw vaginas in basically everything because he says drawing dicks is a sign of male domination and that vaginas are way cooler physiologically speaking,” Noya said, unabashed as ever, smiling wide as he casually conversed with two of the most important people in Asahi's life for the first time. 

“Your roommate must be fun at parties,” Suga snickered with that sly flicker in his eye Asahi had learned to distrust. 

“Loads. He went to a fashion show last month and apparently almost got kicked out because he was drunkenly yelling about none of the men wearing skirts,” Noya laughed. It sounded like rusty bells. 

Suga laughed too, a softer, more twinkling tone, joined in by the distant drum line of Daichi's laugh. 

“God what I wouldn't give for a man in a good skirt,” Suga said dreamily. “Or being a man in a good skirt.”

Daichi laughed with his whole chest at that. 

“Can't say I'd mind that either,” he mused, trailing his fingers up and down Suga's shoulder blades. “We could even match babe. Do they even make skirts big enough for me?”

“Oh I'm sure Kuroo could hook you up. He'd have an honest-to-god field day with it to be honest. He gets so grumpy when I don't let him play dress up with me, he got all pouty the other morning when I walked out in a t-shirt and jeans and he wrote ‘you suck’ in hot sauce all over my eggs,” Noya chuckled. 

His frame had become less wooden, the conversation moving forward like they were already acquaintances. Which they were, in a sense, because they knew each other a little through Asahi: and unlike Asahi, they were fine with conversing freely with people they barely knew.

Then Noya’s eyes met Asahi’s again, now the color of hazelnuts caught in the light of a spring afternoon, and everything in Asahi evaporated. He was smiling, he was laughing with Suga and Daichi, he’d brought sweets, he’d shown up uninvited without Asahi giving any inclination that he’d wanted him there. He hadn’t wanted him there, but he also had. And Noya knew all of that, and still he was sitting in Asahi’s apartment, eating their food, and making their dining area shine with a light more alive than the one streaming through the windows.

Here was Noya, who’d screwed up just as Asahi screwed up, and who wasn’t running from that. He leaned into discomfort in a way that Asahi wasn’t yet able to do.

As they looked at each other, Noya’s lips and the corners of his eyes melted into something made of comfort, soft even in its angles, apologetic but not condescending. 

Asahi had felt pitied, but he realized he didn’t have a concrete memory of anything close to pity on Noya’s face. It was a vulnerable remorse that made Asahi flinch internally but Noya didn’t at all shy away from.

“Hey lovebirds,” Daichi said, his voice slicing through the threads stringing Noya and Asahi together, bringing them back into the room where Daichi and Suga were watching them stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. “I know you’re honeymooning but Koushi and I are still here.”

Noya and Asahi broke eye contact, both blushing and snickering quietly under their breath, and Asahi felt like a new lover again. Like their flirtations in the coffee shop where Kiyoko or Ennoshita would have to pull them out of the waters of their own world before they drowned.

“Here, let me clean up, I’m sure you two have some talking to do,” Suga offered sweetly. “As much as I’d love to think you came here to woo the two of us, I’m sure Noya probably wanted to see Asahi.”

“Ah, thank you,” Noya said, cheeks still a little red. “I can totally help—”

“Nope!” Suga said, already getting up and starting to sweep the table clean. “We got this, you two go talk and be cute and gay.”

Before either of them had the chance to protest anymore, Daichi was also on his feet and Suga was shooing them out of the dining area.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” Asahi offered. He suddenly wanted to be alone with Noya, not in the living room or shut away in his bedroom in the same space as his roommates. Out in the open with a clearer, warmer air.

“Sure, I’d love that,” Noya smiled.

It was a warm, almost pastoral summer day. Bright sky, even with some clouds moving in over the horizon, birds and leaves and green grass. 

They headed out together, close enough for Asahi to smell Noya’s cologne but not touching. Asahi desperately wanted to reach out and take Noya’s hand, but he still felt a film of dissonance between them. So he shoved his hands into his pockets instead as they walked down the sidewalk side-by-side.

“So,” Noya said, kicking at a stone that clattered away into a gutter, “I feel like I should talk about the weather or something before we get real but I’m not really about small talk to blunt a conversation.”

“Me neither,” Asahi agreed, stomach squirming. “Do you wanna—or I can. Start us off, I mean.”

“Sure. Let’s just—here, let’s sit down,” Noya said. He led Asahi towards a metal bench at the edge of the sidewalk. They sat side-by-side, close enough for their knees to knock together but still not quite touching.

For a long moment they just sat and observed the world. Asahi’s apartment was off a fairly busy street, so they watched the cars, buses, and bikers whiz their way through the neighborhood. There were birds and a breeze and shit. It was peaceful. 

Asahi looked at Noya. He was beautiful. With his hair and his smile and the confidence in his frame. There was too much distance, even though Noya was right next to him, close enough to reach out and touch. 

Asahi desperately wanted to kiss him.

“I’m sorry,” Noya said after some time. “I fucked up last night and I didn’t handle it well.”

Noya met Asahi’s gaze and Asahi felt his heart tug on the sinew holding it inside his chest. Noya looked so dejectedly remorseful. He was smiling, but the rest of his face drooped, and while Asahi was grateful for the apology he suddenly didn’t want it anymore.

“Don’t apologize,” Asahi said. “It isn’t… I don’t want you to be sorry.”

Noya shook his head and pressed closer, earnest and determined. The intensity in his eyes made Asahi’s stomach flip over, made him lean away from Noya.

“I pushed you,” Noya insisted. “I kept pushing and pushing and I didn’t stop when I should have and then you got upset and then I got upset and I just couldn’t stop screwing up and—fuck. I’m doing it again. Fuck.”

Noya’s expression turned bitter, self-berating and frustrated. He slumped back into his seat and ran a hand through his hair with a huff.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, and Asahi was growing to hate the marriage of those two words. “This… I’m just used to Yachi and how her anxiety works and this obviously isn’t the same.”

_ Sorry I’m not Yachi then, _ Asahi thought bitterly.  _ Sorry I’m harder to deal with. _

“It’s okay,” he said, feeling his voice get thick. 

He wasn’t sure why he’d said that. It wasn’t okay. He didn’t feel okay or happy or supported or anything. He felt isolated. Alone. 

Why was he protecting Noya’s feelings when he felt like his own emotions were crumbling like old stale bread?

“No, it isn’t okay, and I want to do better,” Noya said firmly, the melancholy crescendoing again. “I want to know how to support you.”

_ I don’t even know how to support me. _

Asahi blinked. “O—okay. I don’t… I don’t really have any answers for you though. I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to say.”

“I’m not expecting anything really,” Noya said, still brimming with something close to optimism. “I just want to be there for you. I want to learn  _ you _ since I’m obviously doing a shit job right now. I want to fix… whatever this is.”

Asahi’s stomach felt soggy, sickly, like a ball of cat vomit was lodged beneath his ribs. 

“Yeah. Um. That’s probably… yeah. Helpful.”

_ Here we go. “How do we fix this” usually means “how do we fix  _ you _ ” and that’s when people start to decide they’re done. _

The acid in his stomach was on the verge of dissolving itself. Asahi was anxious and he knew he wasn’t the best at handling it yet but he was willing to work. Willing to try. And a lot of the things that bothered people—the awkward silences, being bad at small talk, the fidgeting, the stuttering, the sensory overload—those weren’t things that Asahi could fix. They weren’t even things he  _ wanted _ to fix. They were just a part of who he was, regardless of whether they came from his anxiety or not.

Did Noya want him to change? To be different?

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking since last night—”

“I don’t wanna change,” Asahi blurted as the sick in his stomach surged through his chest. “I don’t wanna change anything. I… I don’t… I don’t like myself but I… I don’t wanna change.”

Noya blinked, head tilting to the side. “Change? Who said you were changing?”

“I… isn’t that what you meant?” Asahi asked nervously. It was hard to read Noya’s expression. He could have been confused or annoyed, depending on how Asahi read the angle of his eyebrows, the narrowing of his lids.

“Uh… no. Not at all,” Noya said, sitting up a little straighter. “I definitely meant that we needed to work together so I know how to best support you when you’re stressed.”

The sick in Asahi’s stomach grew less sour, acid crawling back down his throat. Noya’s expression lost its angularity, growing soft at the corners and sympathetic in the center. He reached out, face painted in a question, and when Asahi didn’t flinch or rebuke him Noya placed a soothing hand on Asahi’s thigh. He stroked the inside of his leg with his thumb and scooted close enough for their bodies to press flush together and Noya’s breath to warm across Asahi’s neck.

“Did you really think I wanted to change you?” Noya asked, the softness in his voice almost sad.

“I… Yeah. I did,” Asahi admitted. “I just… I know I’m a pain in the ass and I know you feel bad for upsetting me but even when people are sorry they usually just want to figure out how to prevent a panic attack or keep me from flipping out in general and that isn’t… it’s not helpful or realistic. So.”

The words tumbled out of Asahi’s mouth like they’d been locked away and he’d finally given them a key to freedom: frantic and clustered and rushed. His hands were clasped tight in his lap, thumbs dancing around each other agitatedly. He swallowed hard. He didn’t want to cry.

“Alright, that totally makes sense,” Noya nodded when it was clear Asahi was done speaking. “But also… that’s total bullshit. Not your feelings! But, like, the reasoning isn’t… accurate. If that makes sense.”

“Not… really. Sorry.”  _ How could the reasoning be bullshit but the feelings be accurate? _

“Okay um… let me think,” Noya said, tapping his chin. He thought for a second, tongue poking out very cutely from between his teeth, looking hard into Asahi’s eyes. Like he was searching for something. “Okay, so basically I think what I meant is that I want to know what you need when something like that happens,” Noya said finally, each word chosen carefully even as they fell fast from his mouth. “So, I don’t want to change how you are or your reactions to things, I just want to make sure we’re both—the two of us together—supporting you and your growth.”

“You sound like Suga,” Asahi snorted humorlessly, burning under the intensity of Noya’s gaze. 

“Good. You need people in your life to help push you to be your best self.”

Asahi had no response. This was something he always thought of as a private affair, something to be dealt with alone. He needed to come up with coping mechanisms to help himself function and cause the least amount of collateral damage. He didn’t want to involve other people.

His instinct was to push Noya away.  _ No _ , he wanted to say,  _ I can do this on my own. I need to do this on my own. _

His uncertainty just drew Noya closer to him. He was too close and not close enough all at once.

Asahi was suddenly gripped with the urge to yank Noya into his lap and kiss him hard, kiss him until neither of them were speaking and it was just their bodies, uncomplicated by words. Words were just piling bricks in a wall forcing them apart. 

His fists clenched and unclenched on his thighs as he fought his instincts and tried to come up with some kind of response.

_ Maybe if I kiss him, we’ll change the subject... _

“You’re hesitating,” Noya observed. “What’s up? What’re you thinking?”

What was he thinking? He was thinking about pity. He was thinking about how he’d always said it was hard to make friends for him, and how that was true, but he also hadn’t really tried. All this was showing him was how complicated relationships with other people, how Daichi and Suga were easy because they had always been there.

New people were troublesome. They were too hard.

“I just… Suga and Daichi help me but they’ve known me for a long time and they love me, but I don’t… I feel like it isn’t fair or good for me to have all these people making sure I don’t freak out. How am I supposed to get better?” Asahi said, feeling his throat swell and eyes burn. “When I get upset like that, I just want to run away. I just… I just wanna be alone.”

“Okay,” Noya said, not hesitating for a single second. “We can do that. We can make that happen.”

“No, Noya, you don’t understand,” Asahi half-said, half-choked. “I don’t want your help. I want to do this alone.”

Noya inhaled sharply through his nose, like Asahi had smacked him. But he didn’t look away, and he didn’t retract his hand. 

He was quiet for a moment, sucking in his lower lip and gnawing at it. His eyes grew yet.

“Well. That’s fucking shitty.”

Noya’s voice crackled like Asahi’s, and the brown in his eyes distorted with tears he was clearly holding back. 

Oh god.

_ Please don’t cry, oh god please don’t cry... _

“I’m—I’m sorry I—”

“That’s shitty because I care about you,” Noya interrupted, like he hadn’t even heard Asahi speak. His jaw was set, nails digging into Asahi’s thigh. “I don’t want you to put that kind of distance between us. You’re my boyfriend and I really care about you.”

Noya sniffled and pressed his wrist to his eyes to try to mop away the wetness. It didn’t work. If anything it broke the dam holding everything back and there were small droplets rolling down his cheeks. 

“If that’s what you really want I’ll respect that,” Noya said, voice surprisingly even. “But I’m gonna go ahead and make a guess that  _ isn’t _ what you really want. I think that feels comfortable for you, but I don’t think that’s what will make you the happiest.”

Noya sighed heavily and wiped more tears from his cheeks. Asahi wanted to reach out and brush them away instead, stroke Noya’s cheek with his thumb until Noya was smiling and leaning into his palm. He wanted  _ Noya _ to be happiest, regardless of the fact that his heart ached like an overused muscle.

“I just… want you to be happy,” Asahi said, keeping his hands folded securely in his lap.

“I’m happy when I’m with you,” Noya said earnestly. “I’m happy when you’re being loved and supported. When we’re working together as best we can.”

Noya sighed again and swallowed the rest of his tears. He looked away from Asahi, out over the street where a small truck was trundling along the road. His eyes were unfocused, like he was far, far away from Asahi.

The sick in Asahi’s stomach started seeping back in. Was this how it was going to work out? Were they just going to keep arguing about what Asahi wanted or didn’t want? Was nothing ever going to be enough for the two of them?

Maybe they just… weren’t meant to be. 

That was it. Asahi broke down. Again.

Big, fat tears welled up in his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks, soaking into his beard and dribbling down into his lap. His shoulders shook as he tried to hold them back, but it was useless. His chest was heaving and quiet, choking sobs were scraping their way out of his throat. He pressed his knees close together, shoulders hunched, trying to shrink, to disappear. 

A warm, firm arm wrapped around Asahi’s middle and pulled him in, tilting Asahi’s neck so his head rested on a round, somewhat bony shoulder. Then there were fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp, running down his cheek, his jaw. A cooing, quiet voice. The stinging smell of cologne. 

Asahi curled up like a child, tucking his knees into Noya’s lap and collapsing onto his chest. Noya somehow managed to take all of Asahi’s size and weight, cradling him, holding him close enough that Asahi could hear Noya’s pulse in his throat. 

They sat on that bunch for an indeterminate amount of time while Asahi cried onto Noya’s shoulder. Long enough for the sun to peak over their heads, and then Asahi was sweaty and crying and Noya was sweaty and they were covered in sticky, gross fluids. They still sat, though, while Asahi cried and cried until he didn’t really know what he was crying about exactly.

Fear. Anger. Relief. Self-consciousness. Exhaustion. Too many, many things for him to keep inside his body.

When he finally stopped sobbing, and his cries got soft and quiet, he took an enormous breath. On the exhale, he felt like some sort of toxin coursing through his veins had been cleansed from his body.

“You okay babe?” Noya asked, barely above a whisper. 

“I… I don’t know,” Asahi sniffed, curling into an even tighter ball. It was hot out, and he was sweating, but the adrenaline was wearing off and he suddenly felt very cold. “I feel a little better, but. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. We can stay here as long as you want,” Noya soothed. He was the most gentle Asahi had ever experienced him. It made him want to cry even more.

Asahi nodded against Noya’s shoulder. He took another few steadying breaths, trying to gather himself and his thoughts.

“I’m scared,” Asahi finally admitted.

“What are you scared of, love?” Noya asked. Asahi’s heart throbbed.

“Scared of you,” Asahi sniffled. “Scared of this. It’s… easier. To just be alone.”

“I know it is,” Noya said. “But I want to work on everything together.”

He sighed again, squeezing Asahi’s shoulder, thinking about something. Asahi waited. He nuzzled Noya’s shoulder. He felt Noya’s strong warmth and briefly imagined what it would be like to be held like this forever.

“I’m not perfect, Asahi,” Noya said after a moment. “I feel like you kind of put me on this pedestal and think I’m too good for you but I’m not. Last night should definitely prove that. I’m really… I know I come off as understanding but that took years of work. I’m really not all that empathetic naturally so sometimes I come off as really harsh and selfish. And I have my own demons. Being who I am. Sometimes I hate being in this body, and I hate that I have to stab a needle into myself just to feel comfortable.”

He ruffled his hair, like he did when there were thoughts he was trying to unscramble. 

Asahi thought about what Noya said, about him putting Noya on a pedestal. He wanted to fight back, because Noya was as close to perfect as Asahi had ever met. 

But that… wasn’t exactly true. Noya could be selfish and mindless. He had left Asahi alone. He’d tried to control Asahi’s body because it hurt him to watch Asahi scrabble at his neck. He’d  _ screwed up _ .

In the back of his mind, Asahi recalled a conversation he’d had with Suga in their third year of high school. Daichi had said something super dickish—something that Asahi couldn’t even remember now. It had hurt him so bad he didn’t talk to Daichi for days. 

_ “The sooner you learn that the people you love are just people, the better,” Suga said. “You see us as heroes because you see yourself as the villain. But no one is a hero or a villain. We’re all just people, trying to survive.” _

“Do you ever hate yourself Noya?” Asahi asked dryly. “And I don’t mean like ‘ugh I’m having a bad hair day’ hate. I mean hating yourself down to your core, you know?”

To Asahi’s surprise, Noya nodded at once. “All the time, Azu. There’s a lot of things I don’t necessarily love about myself. I think the only difference between the two of us is that I’ve learned how to concentrate on what I  _ do _ like. And it isn’t like I don’t still struggle. You just haven’t seen me break down yet.”

The thought of Noya breaking down, of Noya disliking even one single thing about himself, was almost laughable. How could someone so incredible, someone who brought so much light into the world, ever hate themselves?

Then it hit him.

“Noya… How do you see me?” Asahi asked.

“How do I see you?” Noya said thoughtfully. He thought for a second before a real, genuine smile snaked over his lips. “I see you as one of the kindest, gentlest people I’ve ever met. I don’t see one single reason for you to hate yourself. Anxiety and all.”

Asahi nodded. He was glowing. He was still terrified, still a little raw with pain, but he was glowing. 

Because relationships weren’t a one-way street. Not the good ones, anyway. Noya wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t see Asahi as important, as worthy of love and affection and time. 

Asahi didn’t like to like himself, because it was so much easier to forgive the world for treating you like shit if you actually were shit. That wasn’t Asahi’s problem, though, if people saw him that way. Noya saw him as someone worth holding sobbing on a metal bench in the middle of a beautiful afternoon.

If Noya saw that worth in him, maybe he could see it in himself.

“I want… I want to work on this too,” Asahi said. “With you. I don’t want distance. I’m just… nervous.”

“I am too,” Noya chuckled, kissing Asahi’s temple. “But if you don’t mind doing the work, neither do I.”

Asahi sniffled again and nuzzled Noya’s shoulder. Everything inside him was still screaming at him to get up and run and put as much distance between himself and whatever this terrifyingly vulnerable moment was. But when he looked up at Noya, tracked the subtle slope of his lips up the drying tear trails on his cheeks and into his eyes, he felt rooted. Grounded.

On that sunny afternoon, that bench became an altar where he lay bare his heart before Noya, open and bleeding in offering. 

And Noya took it up, placed it back in Asahi’s chest, and helped cover the open wounds with his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


	10. The Art of Being Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about a fidget spinner? I love mine!” Bokuto said excitedly.
> 
> “I know I’ll forget the damn thing all the time.”
> 
> “Okay, so not that, but what if—”
> 
> “WAIT.” 
> 
> Kuroo suddenly leapt from the sofa, knocking Bokuto sideways into Noya. They all looked at each other, bewildered, as Kuroo threw himself at Bokuto's bedroom without any explanation at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT'S UP Y'ALL I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD. I just started grad school so I should be able to post more often!
> 
> Some content warnings: There’s an extremely brief, semi-graphic mention of skin-picking/self harm in the paragraph following “And they were better, better than was he used to do at least.”  
> Also, SMUT which starts at “It happened when they were alone in the map room” and goes until the end of the chapter.

“I’m just saying it would work!”

“Absolutely not, it’s out of the fucking question.”

“It would just be for like a few days while we broke the habit—”

“Bokuto Koutarou we are _not_ tying Asahi’s hand to his side holy fuck.”

Bokuto huffed and folded his arms across his chest. Beside him on the sofa, Noya explained why it wasn’t okay to restrain someone “like a goddamn animal”, even if he was trying to be helpful. Kuroo was trying not to lose it beside Bokuto on the sofa, holding laughter behind his hand, while Kiyoko and Yachi made snacks and tea in the kitchen.

The six of them were packed into Noya’s apartment. It was cramped, but not claustrophobic, and a space that Asahi was coming to love. He’d been spending more time there than at his own apartment lately, which had left him in a bit of a puddle of guilt.

Was he beginning to abandon Daichi and Suga? After all they’d done for him, all the ways they supported him, was he just tossing that aside for a new flame? They hadn’t said anything about it but he’d thought for some time….

 

_Asahi’s stomach ached. He curled up on the sofa, cradling the television remote in one hand with the other tucked against his tummy. He was watching...something. Not really paying attention._

_He’d missed rerun night. For the first time since he’d lived with Daichi and Suga, he’d missed rerun night—the night when the three of them sat down together to watch their favorite old shows. It had been a ritual, a set time for them to be together and for them to catch up. Especially when classes were in session, and they rarely saw each other. It was one of his favorite activities._

_And he’d missed it. For a game night at Noya’s. Which was an absolute blast but...god. That somehow made it even worse._

_“You okay, Asa?” Suga asked, glass of tea already in hand. He set it down on the floor in front of his friend._

_“M fine,” Asahi lied. Suga raised his eyebrows._

_“You don’t have to tell me but...I’m here,” Suga said, sitting in the chair beside the TV._

_Asahi squeezed his eyes shut. “I missed it.”_

_“Missed what?”_

_“Rerun night. I totally forgot ‘cause I was at Noya’s.”_

_“Oh. I...yes. I can understand why that would upset you but...it’s okay Asahi,” Suga said gently._

_Asahi peeked open one dubious eye. Suga was smiling at him. He couldn’t possibly be serious._

_“But that’s our thing,” Asahi argued. “I’ve never missed it. And I feel like I haven’t seen you and Daichi in so long and I…”_

_Asahi swallowed. He felt his throat tighten but he would absolutely not cry. Not now._

_“It’s so important to me.”_

_Suga nodded thoughtfully. The understanding smile was still on his face but that somehow just made Asahi feel more nervous._

_“And we know it is. But Asa…” Suga trailed off. He leaned forward in the chair, arms resting on his legs, looking right into Asahi’s eyes. “We know you love us. You aren’t betraying us or anything by making new friends. You really, really like Noya, and you really like his friends too. You don’t belong to Daichi and me.”_

_Asahi let the words sit for quite some time. He never thought that Suga and Daichi owned him or anything. He just loved them. Wanted them to know that._

_“After everything you’ve done—"_

_“You’re out in the world and functioning,” Suga interrupted firmly. “It’s good to see you so happy.”_

_Asahi’s eyes narrowed. “Is it?”_

_“It is,” Suga said with a note of finality. He leaned back, crossing his legs over one another, and turned to the TV. It was Speed Racer for some reason. “As long as you don’t miss Daichi’s recital, and we hang out sometimes, everything is fine. You aren’t betraying us. You’re just growing.”_

_Asahi knew Suga wasn’t coddling him or lying to him, but that didn’t make the guilt dissolve completely. He’d still forgotten them._

_They sat in silence for a time, listening to the babble of the television. Asahi’s eyes were trained on the screen, but he wasn’t really watching. He was replaying, as he did._

_Suga didn’t sound upset. He really sounded happy. He wouldn’t lie to Asahi to make him feel better. If he’d really screwed up somehow, they would have let him know. Would have told him._

_Was it really okay for him to “branch out”?_

_“You should text her,” Suga said suddenly. His voice was quiet, thoughtful._

_“Who?”_

_“That friend of Noya’s, the one you were afraid you’d offended. You should text her.”_

_Asahi’s gaze slid to Suga. “Why?”_

_“Because you’re never going to do this by sitting there Asa,” Suga said, in that softly offensive way of his that felt like having a very smooth rock lobbed at you. “You’ve got to do this.”_

_Asahi squeezed his eyes shut. He curled tighter into a ball._

_“Don’t wanna.”_

_“I know,” Suga said. “But you need to. Just one text, Asa. Just start, and it’ll be okay.”_

_Asahi sighed. He uncurled himself at the swishing protest of his stomach, and pulled out his phone. Suga was right. He just needed to start._

 

[14:12] **Asahi:** Hey Yachi, this is Asahi. I got your number from Nishinoya, I hope it’s alright that I’m texting you

[14:15] **Yachi:** Of course :D What’s up??

[14:17] **Asahi:** I just wanted to apologize for leaving your gala early. I felt so rude, I didn’t even say goodbye and I feel really, really terrible about it. I’m very sorry.

[14:18] **Asahi:** If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you please let me know.

[14:20] **Yachi:** Oh my god!!! Nooooo please don’t feel bad  <3

[14:20] **Yachi:** I think you saw more of it than I did anyway

[14:20] **Yachi:** I was crying in the bathroom for almost an hour soooooo

[14:21] **Asahi:** Oh no are you okay???

[14:21] **Yachi:** Yeah I’m perfectly okay now :)

[14:21] **Yachi:** I just get so anxious sometimes haha especially when people compliment my work

[14:21] **Yachi:** Someone actually wanted to buy my painting so of course the obvious thing to do was have a meltdown

[14:22] **Asahi:** That’s a big mood :P

[14:22] **Asahi:** Did they buy the painting???

[14:22] **Yachi:** They did thanks to Kiyoko

[14:23] **Yachi:** :)

[14:25] **Asahi:** Good!!

[14:25] **Asahi:** I’m sorry you had to go through that too tho

[14:30] **Yachi:** Oh it’s okay! Kiyoko found me and took me home with Bokuto while Kuroo got about fifty modeling gigs with the photo students

[14:31] **Yachi:** They all took me out to ice cream the next day so it ended up being fine!!!

[14:33] **Asahi:** I’m super glad you had support :)

[14:34] **Yachi:** Yeah I’m real lucky :)

[14:38] **Yachi:** Hey I hope this isn’t presumptuous but if you ever wanted to like, talk out some anxiety stuff I’d be totally happy to do that with you

[14:39] **Yachi:** I’m obviously still a mess but my friends have been really helpful for me getting it together and I’m sure they’d be happy to help you too

[14:40] **Asahi:** Oh that’s so nice of you but I have some good friends who help me out too :)

[14:41] **Yachi:** Okay!!! I’m glad to hear that :)

[14:41] **Asahi:** Yeah :)

[14:42] **Yachi:** The offer is totally open though! Sometimes it can be helpful to have some new brains in the room you know?

[14:43] **Yachi:** It’s Bokuto and Kuroo btdubs I know you already know them and honestly they’re so great

[14:43] **Asahi:** Yeah??

[14:44] **Yachi:** Oh yeah! :)

[14:45] **Yachi:** I know Bokuto is a little hyper and Kuroo can honestly come off like a jerk but they’re so sweet and they’ve dealt with their fair share of mental health stuff so they’ve got a really good handle on coping stuff

[14:47] **Asahi:** Huh that’s definitely a little surprising

[14:47] **Asahi:** Kuroo not so much I guess he’s a huge softie haha he dated a good friend of mine and he was always really kind :)

[14:48] **Yachi:** Oh yeah Kuroo is honestly the best. Bokuto too :)

[14:49] **Yachi:** So yeah! If you ever wanted to meet up and talk I’m sure they’d be happy to help out :D

[14:51] **Asahi:** I’ll keep that in mind thank you :)

 

He hadn’t really considered it much at first to be honest. He already had Daichi and Suga, and Noya too, so it felt selfish to get even more help for a problem that was his own in the first place. Plus he was already turning his back on his friends by missing their rerun day, if he went to another person about his anxiety then it would just be a slap in the face, and Suga would be scolding him instead of encouraging him, and they’d be angry and—

No. It was okay to reach out to other people. It was healthy to have a support network.

He remembered what Suga said, about not getting anything done by just sitting there, and in a moment of pure courage he’d asked Kuroo if it was okay to talk through some “stuff”.

They’d set the date up immediately.

Now he was here, sitting on the floor at Noya’s place, nestled between Noya’s legs as Noya braided and unbraided his hair and argued with Bokuto about the best way to curb Asahi’s neck rubbing. He still felt really horrible about it, but everyone was being so wonderful to him it was hard to dwell on those negative feelings for once.

 _There’s nothing wrong with getting help from other people, you noodle_ , Suga had reminded him when Asahi told them in a frantic haze where he was off to.

“Is it really that big of a deal? Aren’t there other things we should be focusing on? Like my panic attacks?” Asahi asked. The sheer volume of random, unguided suggestions was becoming worse than the problems themselves.

“I mean, I guess not in the grand scheme of things,” Noya admitted.

“That’s not the point, though,” Kiyoko cut in, setting down a plate with snacks and mugs for their tea.

“It isn’t?” Asahi asked.

“No,” Kiyoko said, sitting down cross-legged beside Asahi while Yachi came in from the kitchen to pour their tea. “We can’t help with the bigger things until we get a good handle on the smaller things.”

Yachi nodded vigorously in agreement, settling beside Noya on the sofa. “Like, I used to pull my hair out really badly when I got stressed out, and that was just causing damage _and_ I was stressed. So we had to figure out ways I could self-soothe that were healthy and that helped us with the panic attacks.”

Asahi narrowed his eyes, still suspicious and confused by their approach. “I don’t know…”

“Oh! I know what you’re talking about!” Bokuto chimed in excitedly, bouncing his leg hard enough to rattle the snack tray. “My therapist always said that it’s like, you gotta learn how to sail in calm water before you sail in a storm! Right now it’s like—you’re trying to sail in a hurricane, right? But you don’t even know how to sail!”

Bokuto proudly puffed out his chest, beaming. Kuroo ruffled Bokuto’s hair with a soft smile. “That’s such a great analogy, Bo.”

Asahi still wasn’t sure. Suga and Daichi had of course already tried to make those sort of behaviors better. And they were better, better than was he used to do at least.

“I used to pick at my skin until it bled,” Asahi said, feeling himself grow very warm all of a sudden. He rubbed at the places where the scars on his arms were faded enough to be nearly invisible. “So. This was what we came up with instead.”

Asahi tensed, ready for the narrowed eyes, the wrinkled noses, the scoffs. But no one even really reacted.

“Right, and that’s great, but this one is still hurting you so we should look for alternatives,” Kuroo said firmly but also gently, somehow.

Bokuto nodded in agreement. “Yeah! Like, hitting yourself in the head once day with a hammer might kill you slower than a bowling ball but that doesn’t mean you should do it.”

“Sure, Bo,” Kuroo said with a snort.

Asahi bristled. They were all talking about this like it was simple, like it was _easy_ for him to stop. He’d tried to, really honestly tried to. He’d tried all the “healthy” suggestions, from Elmer’s glue to waxing his arms, and literally nothing had helped other than scrabbling at his neck.

Did they think he was lazy? Or stupid? He _knew_ it was bad for him but it was _all he had_.

“Azu,” Noya said gently when Asahi didn’t respond.

Asahi looked at Noya and tried to contain himself. He felt like he might have glared a little though.

“I know you’re trying to help but I’ve tried forever to work on the stuff you’re talking about but I just. Can’t,” Asahi said sternly, scratching at his legs through his jeans.

“And that’s great,” Kuroo argued without missing a beat, still looking Asahi directly in the face. “But you came to us for help so we’re going to work together to start brainstorming healthier coping skills, Asahi.”

Asahi’s stomach boiled, but he deflated a little. Kuroo was right. Just because they were saying stuff that Asahi didn’t like didn’t mean they were being inconsiderate.

It probably just meant they were very right.

“I got so mad when Kiki told me to stop pulling my hair I didn’t talk to her for a week,” Yachi chimed in. “But. When you care about someone you don’t just let them hurt themselves. Even if they get mad.”

“Yeah,” Asahi sighed, ruffling his hair and trying to avoid his neck. “Yeah. You’re right. So what’s next?”

“We gotta find something that gives you the same feeling as rubbing your neck, but doesn’t make you scratch all the skin and hair off!” Noya said. “I know you said you tried the glue trick already but I know there’s something.”

“Maybe you can twirl those little hairs back there? I started twirling and it helped a lot,” Yachi suggested.

“No, I think it’ll be good to avoid my neck altogether,” Asahi said, biting back the _because I don’t trust myself_ bit.

“What about a fidget spinner? I love mine!” Bokuto said excitedly.

“I know I’ll forget the damn thing all the time.”

“Okay, so not that, but what if—”

“WAIT.”

Kuroo suddenly leapt from the sofa, knocking Bokuto sideways into Noya. They all looked at each other, bewildered, as Kuroo threw himself at Bokuto's bedroom without any explanation at all. The remaining five shared the most baffled look.

“What was that…” Noya blinked, but Bokuto just shrugged and shook his head.

When Kuroo emerged, he was grinning practically Cheshire, holding a piece of dark blue fabric.

He held it out towards Asahi. Asahi stared blankly back. Kuroo brandished it towards him, so Asahi hesitantly reached out to take it.

“I…thank you?” he said uncertainly.

Kuroo stared back, looking expectant, so Asahi examined the cloth a little more closely. It was a very pleasant texture, soft but not too silky, oblong, with some fringe hanging off one end.

“A scarf?”

Kuroo nodded exuberantly. “I have an idea. If you—hold on. Just put it on first, see if you like it.”

Asahi did as instructed. He wasn't exactly sure how Kuroo wanted him to wear it, so he just kind of did what he normally did: twice around with the ends hanging on either side and the middle around his collarbone.

Asahi raised his eyebrows and looked at Kuroo for an explanation. Kuroo stared back but didn't say anything.

“I'm, er, sorry, but am I missing something?”Asahi asked. He looked from Noya to Bokuto to Yachi, but they looked equally as perplexed as he was at Kuroo’s odd behavior.

“No, but I have an idea,” Kuroo said, rubbing his hands together and coming to sit down on the coffee table in front of Asahi.

“Do you want to share it with the rest of us?” Noya asked sharply. His hands returned to the systematic braiding and unbraiding of Asahi’s hair.

Kuroo rolled his eyes at Noya. “Well _yes_ , but I wanted to know if Asahi liked it before I went and started suggesting things.”

“I like it,” Asahi said, stroking the fabric. “It’s...soft. Nice.”

Kuroo looked delighted. “That’s perfect! Okay so what I was thinking was—”

“The ponytail!” Yachi exclaimed, immediately clapping a hand over her own mouth and turning bright red.

Kuroo blinked. He looked surprised but ultimately amused. “Yes, exactly Yachi.”

“Oh shit, that’s a great idea Kuroo!” Bokuto praised, bouncing in his seat. Noya nodded in agreement, and Kiyoko kissed her still-blushing partner’s cheek, squeezing her around the middle.

Asahi felt hopelessly lost.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” Asahi said, hand creeping up to the back of his neck. When it reached the cloth, instead of scraping at his skin, he pushed and pulled his fingers through the fabric of the scarf.

“ _That's_ the ponytail,” Kuroo said, pointing at Asahi's hand. He froze and stared in confusion at Kuroo. “I mean, not literally but like, similar. I mean—actually Yachi would you mind since it's your thing?”

Yachi nodded, growing a bit pink but speaking with confidence. “So I used to pull my hair out. Real bad. And what we figured out helps is putting my hair into a ponytail. If I really need to tug, I can without causing as much damage. But mostly I just twirl it or snap the ponytail band and it still maybe causes a bit of frayed ends and cracking but it's a lot better.”

Asahi nodded, and Kiyoko chimed in. “I think we figured out it's not about coming up with something that causes absolutely zero problems but coming up with something that is much healthier and has the least potential to do harm.”

“Because even though the neck scratching is definitely better than picking, it’s still hurting you a lot,” Noya agreed.

Asahi nodded again, feeling a bit like a bobblehead, but slightly more grounded in his understanding. “So the scarf is mean to, uh…”

“Minimize the harm, yeah, that's the exact plan,” Kuroo finished excitedly.

Asahi played with the scarf. It was a really soothing texture, for sure, but that somehow dulled its effectiveness. Part of the scrabbling was bringing Asahi back into his body, albeit through pain. Plus he was able to fidget and occupy his fingers and not pick at himself like he'd been wont to do in high school.

“You seem unconvinced,” Kuroo observed, scooting closer on his knees.

Guilt flared in Asahi's chest, but he swallowed it under Kuroo's relatively neutral gaze. “I guess I just worry about it being enough.”

Kuroo bobbed his head in agreement, but it was Yachi who spoke up again. “That's normal, part of how we deal sometimes is through the boost we get from pain.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” Asahi grimaced.

Yachi smiled sympathetically. She reached out to stroke Asahi’s arm—a gesture that felt like it should have been patronizing, but really just filled him with a sense of kinship. Yachi, more than anyone else probably, understood. Why it was easy to say he wanted to get better, but difficult to actually get there.

“It’s probably gonna be hard at first, but I promise you’ll find a way to make it just as good. You can even scratch through the fabric without hurting yourself nearly as much,” Yachi said confidently, squeezing Asahi’s forearm. “And if the scarf doesn’t work, we’ll find something else.”

“Hell yeah!” Bokuto whooped, launching forward to pull Asahi (or rather Asahi’s head) into a bone-crushing hug. “We got you! We’re not gonna give up until you get better!”

Asahi garbled his gratitude into Bokuto’s suffocating bicep. He was given another firm squeeze before gentle fingers pried Bokuto lovingly off Asahi’s head.

“Why don’t you try it?” Noya suggested. “Just play with a bit. See if you like it.”

“I got one of my fringy ones so you can mess around with those, if you want,” Kuroo added, pointing at the bits of embellished yarn that hung off the front of the scarf.

Asahi nodded. It was a little unsettling, being watched like this, but he tried anyway. First, the hand to the back of the neck, rubbing and scratching like he normally would. At first, he felt a spike of panic, because it wasn’t the sensation he’d been wanting or expecting. It made him want to scrabble frantically at the skin until he felt the telltale sting of his fingernails tearing at his neck.

Then, he found something that sent a thrill of something like pleasured relief down his spine, slowing his heart rate and dulling the spasms of anxiety prickling through his nerves. If he took his finger and dragged the fabric in spirals, he felt a similar catharsis to when he plucked at the hairs on his neck. If he pushed and pulled the fabric in circles rather than straight lines, he felt that same soothing lull that scratching gave him.

There was something in the repetition, of feeling something rubbing his skin, that made him feel...real. Solid. Anchored, like he wasn’t going to float away or dissolve.

Kuroo’s idea, fiddling with the fringe, wasn’t grounding really. It wasn’t really like anything he’d tried before actually. Twiddling with the strands, twisting them together, counting them, was like...it was like...like literally untangling his thoughts from one another. Not calm exactly, but focused, organized.

He must have had quite a look on his face as he craned his neck back, gazing at Noya upside-down from below, because Noya had the softest, cutest, most perfect smile on his face: the kind the curled at the corners, crinkled his eyes, and roseyed his cheeks.

“Yeah? Are you enjoying yourself?” Noya hummed, thumbing at Asahi’s temples.

Asahi, feeling his own face share in a dopey, happy grin, nodded.

“Woo-hoo!” Bokuto cheered. “You did it, Kuroo!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kuroo said modestly.

“You did _so much_!” Bokuto argued.

“All I did was make a suggestion, I’m just glad it helped.”

Noya rolled his eyes, but their bickering was playful, and even Asahi had grown to find it charming.

From this angle, he was able to appreciate every good thing about Nishinoya Yuu—which was, consequently, everything. The lines of his face, the amber of his eyes, the way the tendons of his hands moved as he touched Asahi, his tattoos, his hair, his everything. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, something swelling in his stomach as he gazed at Noya and Noya gazed right back.

Asahi reached up to cup Noya’s cheek, thumbing the fuzz leftover from Noya’s last shave, marveling at his beauty.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Kuroo said, clapping them back down to earth.

Asahi felt his cheeks warm, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he straightened back up. Kuroo snickered and Bokuto barked out a laugh at them, Kiyoko and Yachi chuckling together even as Kiyoko held Yachi tight against her.

Noya stuck his tongue out at Kuroo.

“Whatever,” Kuroo snorted. He got to his feet with a groan, limbs cracking all the way up. “Here, Bokuto and I will get out of your hair. We were gonna go catch a film anyway. Do you two wanna come?” he tilted his chin at Kiyoko and Yachi.

“Sure, if you want to,” Yachi agreed. Kiyoko nodded, and the two rose along with Bokuto to gather up their things.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to, especially after all the help,” Asahi protested (weakly).

“Nah, it’s fine, dude! We were planning on going out anyway,” Kuroo assured him with a grin.

Asahi’s stomach gurgled in guilt, but it was soon chased away by a combination of excitement and fear as he realized that he and Noya were about to be left alone. Fully alone in Noya’s apartment, for the first time since their very first date. With Iwaizumi out to visit Oikawa until tomorrow, they could enjoy each other’s company however they liked without the fear of being walked in on.

He hardly had time to process all of that before Kuroo was patting Asahi’s shoulder and everyone was getting up to gather their things.

“Cool, okay, you got your wallet Bo?” Kuroo said while Kiyoko and Yachi grabbed their purses from the hooks beside the door.

“Sure do!” Bokuto beamed.

“Yeah? Cuz I got it in my pocket,” Kuroo said with a raised brow, plucking it from his cardigan and waving it in Bokuto’s face.

“Then why did you even ask!” Bokuto wailed.

Kuroo just shrugged and stuffed it back into his pocket.

“You’re both idiots,” Kiyoko said flatly. “Ready to go?”

“Ready! Bye, honeymooners!” Bokuto said with an excitable wave.

“See you later,” Kuroo said with a wink that Noya flipped off and Asahi just ignored.

“Bye, thank you again for the scarf. Would you like it back?” Asahi said.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, I’ve got plenty,” Kuroo waved him away, sticking his tongue out and walking out of the apartment.

“Yeah, and they’re _all over_ my floor!” Bokuto griped, sulking behind his sweetheart with a wave at Noya and Asahi. “Don’t soil the furniture please!”

“Have fun!” Yachi trilled, following hand-in-hand with Kiyoko behind the boys.

“You too!” Noya replied.

Then he door closed. And they were alone.

There was a moment of awkward silence, Asahi waiting for some kind of instruction from his boyfriend, when there were at least ten different emotions churning his insides like clothes in a laundry machine.

Then, Noya scooted over on the sofa and patted the vacated seat beside him. Asahi scrambled to join him while Noya flicked on the television to find something for them to watch. He settled on some sort of foreign romantic comedy series Bokuto had roped him into while Asahi situated himself with the same awkward excitement he always felt during these times with Noya.

They’d spent plenty of time together alone, but they were almost exclusively limited to the map room. Even with its relative remoteness, the fact that it was still technically public made it difficult for Asahi to fully enjoy Noya and his company.

Now, though, they had their privacy, and Asahi was caught between wanting to take things as slow as they had been and the frantically physical urges he felt whenever he took a moment to fully appreciate Noya’s body and face and lips.

“Do you wanna snuggle?” Noya offered, swinging an arm over the back of the sofa and gesturing for Asahi to join him.

“Yes please,” Asahi sighed in happy relief.

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed by Noya’s amused laughter, because then he was tucking himself against Noya’s side and it was like he’d sunk into a bath filled with pure, hot, aphrodisiac. Heat crawled up from his hips to his neck, seeping in to saturate his cheeks with a combination of chagrin and anticipation. He didn’t know if Noya wanted anything more than this after all, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask or really to care.

Instead, he wrapped an arm securely around Noya’s stomach, to feel the rise and fall of his breath, and pushed up as close to him as he could. The smell of Noya, the heat of his body, his beauty and allure, lit Asahi up like a candle wick with no intention of burning out.

“Comfy?” Noya asked quietly, kissing Asahi on the top of the head.

“Mmhmm,” Asahi hummed blissfully.

Noya kissed him again, lips lingering for a moment longer, before settling into the show.

Asahi could hardly pay attention. He was acutely aware of how close they were, and how very _alone_ they were, and how very much Asahi had started to want Noya. Like, really, really want Noya.

It happened when they were alone in the map room, and Noya pushed Asahi shamelessly against the wall, kissing him hard and exploring his body over their clothes. Or when Asahi got a rush of courage, and pulled Noya hard against him beside the bookshelves to taste him. It happened when Asahi went to visit Noya at work, and Noya leaned over the counter to kiss him right on the lips without giving a single fuck about who might or might not approve. It happened when they were walking together through the campus grounds, Asahi memorizing every line of Noya’s hand. It happened when they hung out at Noya’s apartment, messing around with Kuroo and Bokuto, Yachi and Kiyoko, and Asahi looked at Noya’s laughing face and was overwhelmed by his beauty.

It happened all the time. It was probably a surprise, how much Asahi really did love sex and being very overtly sexual. But he also didn’t have a particularly high libido, even when he was dating someone. He and Yui had waited months until they started messing around with each other, but once they had, they did it quite a lot.

It was a time when he could just enjoy the endorphins, enjoy the other person, without fearing social conventions, and feeling completely empowered to speak very explicitly about what he wanted.

Lately with Noya, it had been intense, frequent, and unignorable. He was jerking off like a teenager who discovered their genitals for the first time, wanting so badly to taste and touch and _cum_ with Noya.

Asahi used to be ashamed of his sexual urges, but as he’d gotten older, he’d learned to really cherish sex. The intimacy, the closeness, the amount of communication and care, the trust, the way both parties could make each other feel so wonderfully _alive_. Yui had helped him gain a lot of confidence in bed, and the few short-term partners he’d had since her had all been lovely and supportive.

He wanted that with Noya. Wanted to make Noya feel good. Feed incredible.

“Azu?” Noya asked, stroking his fingers through Asahi’s hair, tugging him back into his body.

Asahi realized he’d been staring point-blank right at Noya’s face. He flared, but there was something in Noya’s eyes that immediately quashed any sense of embarrassment.

The gold flecks were flickering, and there was a flush in Noya’s cheeks Asahi recognized from their more heated make-out sessions in the map room. Was he thinking...

“I’m sorry I just—do you—am I completing reading the vibe wrong or do you maybe wanna mess around a little?” Noya asked in a rush.

“Mess around?” Asahi asked. He knew what that meant but...he just didn’t want to assume. His heart was battering his ribcage so hard it felt it might burst, and he had to make sure that Noya wanted what Asahi—and his body—wanted.

“Yeah, like, sexually,” Noya said. His voice was a little shaky, not unsure, but maybe a little nervous.

“I would,” Asahi said breathlessly. “I would very much so like that.”

Noya swallowed, then split his lips wide in a beaming smile. “How would you like it? Er, would you like me to choose?”

“Yeah, I’m g—good with that,” Asahi stuttered, heart slamming completely out of control as Noya’s hand started to creep up his thigh.

Noya nodded, then ushered Asahi to sit up. Asahi did as instructed, trembling, his jeans already feeling far, far too tight. He pushed himself up, legs spread slightly apart to give himself, um, room, and rested his hands limply beside him on the sofa.

Noya placed his hands on Asahi’s shoulders and looked him right in the eye. He was very flushed now, gnawing his lip between his teeth, looking like he was going to devour Asahi whole.

Asahi didn’t think he’d mind that. Not at all.

“I’m gonna straddle you, ‘kay? Can you close your legs for me?” Noya said roughly.

Asahi nodded and did as instructed, though as he did so, his arousal became very obvious to both him in the constriction of his jeans and anyone who might look at his crotch. He didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed, though, before Noya swung a leg over him and settled down right over the bulge in his jeans.

“T—tell me if, if you wanna stop,” Noya said, and now his breath was just as jagged as Asahi’s.

Asahi barely had time to nod before Noya was kissing him, sloppy and open-mouthed, tongues entwining and teeth tugging. One of Noya’s hands came up to cup Asahi’s jaw, while the other stayed firmly clutching his shoulder.

Asahi, shaking, lifted his hands to come rest on Noya’s perfect waist. It was hard not to grab him and yank him down, claw at him, grope him in desperation, but he waited instruction like his life depended on it.

Noya let out that hushed, sighing breath as his T-shirt hiked up and Asahi’s palms grazed his skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, panting and trembling. “‘Kay, good, good, oh good…”

He was babbling as Asahi pushed Noya’s shirt up just a bit more, just enough for Asahi’s hands to be resting on nothing but his skin.

“Yes, yes,” Noya muttered, his hips starting to twitch. “I wanna—is grinding okay? Can we do that?”

Asahi nodded again, gulping down air as Noya began to slowly undulate his hips. It felt good, until Asahi helped Noya adjust over were his cock was pressing hardest against his clothes, and then it felt _amazing_. Noya knew just how to thrust, how to dance in Asahi’s lap, rolling back and forth to get the most pleasure with the least chafing, grinding down hard against him.

Head lolling back, Asahi’s hands tightened on Noya’s waist and he began meeting Noya halfway, thrusting his own hips up against his boyfriend. Noya was groaning and gasping, muttering encouragements that barely sounded like words as they moved together with the music of their their breathing.

Asahi's chest tightened, and he knew he could absolutely come like that, but he didn't particularly want to come in his pants but he also didn't want Noya to stop. His grip on Noya's hips was probably too tight, but Noya didn't protest. He ground down hard against Asahi through their clothes, head thrown back and moaning loud.

It felt so good, his body relishing the spread of heat, the tightness in his gut, the heaving of his chest. It felt natural, easy even, to be like this with Noya. There were no words needed, no pressure for Asahi to speak: just the movement of their bodies together as they both steadily climbed.

Then, suddenly, Asahi was climbing far too high, far too fast, hurtling towards a precipice he was not at all prepared for.

"Noya," Asahi gasped, "gonna... Oh god... S—stop... Gonna come..."

Noya's body stilled immediately. He blinked his eyes open and stared at Asahi.

Asahi's heart definitely stopped beating. His pupils were swallowing the hazel in his eyes, all desire and need. A reflexive apology almost slipped off Asahi's tongue before a grin spread across Noya's lips.

"Was it good?"

"Yes," Asahi breathed with a vigorous nod, "so good. I just didn't... Didn't want..."

"To come in your pants?" Noya finished.

"Yeah."

"That's fine. That's so fine. Do you want to come at all?"

"Yes," Asahi said immediately, surprised at the conviction in his own voice. "I do. Do you?”

Noya tore at his lower lip, nodding eagerly. “Definitely. But it’s—I usually—do you mind going first? Sorry I usually just get super tired after I come and I wanna give you all that good stuff.”

Noya wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Asahi laughed, albeit a bit nervously. “That’s fine.”

"Okay," Noya nodded, smiling even wider. "How do you want it, then?"

Asahi swallowed. He felt suddenly responsible for some reason, wanting so desperately to please Noya, to make him happy. How would _he_ want Asahi? His brain ran through a list of possibilities like an endlessly spinning slot machine.

“I don’t…I…I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Noya assured him. His hand left Asahi’s shoulder to gently cradle his cheek, thumb stroking over his jaw. “I can go through a list? And you can pick something that sounds good?”

“That’s perfect,” Asahi said in relief.

“Alright. Let’s see…I can blow you?”

Asahi’s eyes widened. Blowjobs were extremely stressful for Asahi to receive. That was something they needed to discuss in greater detail.

He shook his head.

“Okay, no blowjob. We can grind with clothes off? Easier to clean?”

Asahi shook his head again, thinking about how much that might chafe them both.

“Okay, okay, no worries. I can…I can stroke you off? With or without your underwear on?”

Asahi thought about Noya’s nimble fingers on him, wrapped around his aching, leaking cock. Not through his underwear, where they might get stained with cum, but with skin-on-skin, feeling Noya pumping him through an orgasm.

He felt himself twitch at the thought.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Let’s…let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Noya said, eyes alight and lips curling impishly. “And you can stop whenever okay?”

Asahi nodded.

His head fell back onto the sofa and he closed his eyes, just feeling. Wanting nothing more than to be himself in that moment, which was such an odd desire it took him forever to pinpoint it. Because _he_ was the only one on earth in that moment who had Nishinoya Yuu straddling his lap, tracing fingers down the grooves of his knit sweater, lighting him up like the sun.

But then Noya's hands were at the hem of his shirt and his eyes flew open.

“No!” he blurted, against everything inside him urging him onward. “Wait,” he corrected.

Noya retracted his hands, head tilting in concern. _No, that isn't what I want… I want…_

“I don't want to stop,” Asahi clarified before Noya could ask. “I'm just… I'm…”

What were words? Bad. They were not good ways of communicating thought.

Thank god Noya was patient, waiting for Asahi to find language to explain why his want suddenly hit a brick wall when the scrape of his zipper against his foreskin was begging otherwise.

It was when Noya touched the end of his shirt, the fabric separating them, that the panic seized him. That memory led to the memory of Noya, impressively toned for someone who didn't really hit the gym, standing shirtless in his room.

Ah. There it was.

“I'm nervous,” he admitted, the heat in his body having nothing to do with his arousal. “About you seeing me.”

_Because I know you'll keep going, even if you don’t find my body sexy._

Noya nodded his understanding. He settled his hands on Asahi's thighs, gliding patiently up and down. Asahi should have been used to that by then, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever be used to the waves of relief that came from Noya's patience.

“Okay, I don't have to take your clothes off. Other than to, you know, touch your dick,” Noya said, flashing a smile.

Asahi's stomach churned. He did _not_ want that. He wanted their clothes gone. But he also didn't.

His indecision was frustrating beyond belief.

“No, I want you to… I want you to touch me,” Asahi said tentatively, trying to phrase everything accurately. “I'm just… I haven't even looked at a gym since I graduated. And, uh, Suga bakes. A lot. And it's really good.”

“Are you a little chubby, Asahi?” Noya teased.

When Asahi just turned a deeper shade of red and did not look amused, Noya softened. He reached up to thumb Asahi’s cheek, head tilted with gentle eyes and a matching smile. He soothed up and down Asahi’s thigh reassuringly.

“Asahi, love, I understand your worry, but I promise you that whatever you have under your clothes, I will love it. I promise.”

Asahi was unconvinced, but he wanted desperately to be touched by Noya. So he swallowed and, as bravely as he could, nodded for Noya to continue.

“Are you sure?” Noya said, brows raised.

Asahi nodded again, surer. He wanted to be touched.

Noya didn’t waste a second. He pushed up Asahi's sweater, revealing him inch by inch, until his arms kept the material from traveling further. Noya didn't fight the resistance. He stared at Asahi, all exposed chest and stomach and dark hair.

Asahi looked down to see what Noya was seeing. He didn't look at his own body a lot. He didn't hate it really, but he didn't find any pleasure in looking at himself either.

It was clearer to him then more than ever why. He was big and broad and he'd never quite lost the forearms and biceps that came from spiking, but everything else had taken very enthusiastically to Suga's cooking.

His chest was okay, he decided. Not flat, not flabby, and not toned, but not too bad. It was his stomach that felt all wrong, and the hair that crawled from his underwear to cover his chest like weeds. He should have shaved, really. It wasn't an attractive, porn-star hair like in _twink gets wrecked by massive bearded bear_. It was just hair. Fuzzy and untamed and dark. Gross. Unclean.

Not as bad as his stomach. The cookies and noodles and heavy sauces Suga and Daichi put on his plate every day poked out in a pooch a little over his jeans, creating what looked like a misshapen, abdomen-shaped hill in the middle of his torso. No hard muscle. He was strong, yes, definitely could still lift Noya into the air if he wanted, but all that was hidden deep.

He expected Noya to examine him and continue regardless, maybe kiss a little, maybe touch to see if Asahi was as out-of-shape as he looked. He’d probably go straight for Asahi’s pants, to get to the good part of all this, and maintain a safe distance.

But he didn't do that. He sat and roamed over Asahi with his eyes, made him sweat with nerves.

Then he swallowed. He _swallowed_ , a hard, thick motion that Asahi could track down his throat. An unmistakable swallow. One that couldn't be faked.

Asahi's whole body erupted in flames.

“Jesus,” Noya said, finally reaching out to touch. Asahi arched encouragingly into his hands, shuddering when the tips of his fingers met his skin and burned him even hotter. “Jesus christ. I can't believe you were nervous about this. Well, I _can_ because you're nervous a lot but damn, Asahi…”

Noya swallowed again and glided his fingers up the path of Asahi's body hair. It was rare that Noya was speechless. Quiet and concentrating, like he was studying for an exam and Asahi was the required material. Warmth. Heat. Fire.

“I wanna fuck you,” Noya rasped suddenly. “I wanna… I wanna fuck your whole body… Press you hard… Touch all of you at once and make you come. I wanna see what all this does,” Noya splayed his hands flat over Asahi's chest and dragged them down to his pants, “when you come.”

Asahi was absolutely sure he'd combusted. His mind had never really wandered as far as fucking or getting fucked but oh dear, oh _lord_ he suddenly wanted it. He wanted Noya to fill him up until he couldn’t breathe.

“I wanna be deep inside you,” Noya said, kept going, no embarrassment whatsoever as he divulged the depths of his lust. “I wanna watch your chest heave, I wanna watch your back arch—god your _fucking back_ —and I wanna watch everything move as I pleasure the absolute living fuck out of you.”

Noyas eyes flicked up to Asahi's face and Asahi stopped breathing. He'd never seen a hunger, a need like air, in someone's eyes after they looked at him. It made him dizzy.

Then _no no no_ Noya leaned back a little with a slight blush to his cheeks.

“Sorry. I don't even know if you like bottoming. I just got carried away.”

Asahi shook his head, grabbing Noya by the hips and arching against his boyfriend. “I like it. And I want to get fucked. By you. Not tonight but…”

“Oh totally, not tonight for sure,” Noya reassured, quickly giving back into hunger, though it seemed he'd put a leash on it for now. “Tonight is way more chill. But like… Whenever you want…”

Noya bit his lip and picked at Asahi's pants, threading the button through its hole without taking his eyes off of Asahi.

“I wanna… Can I keep talking?”

“Please,” Asahi breathed, head spinning as Noya slid open the zipper.

“God I wanna fuck you,” Noya said, the words rushing from his mouth. “I wanna be deep inside your body, I wanna touch and kiss everything, everything. Jesus I can't… can't stop thinking…” fingers hooked into the hem of his pants, touching his hipbones, Asahi gasped. “Can't stop thinking about you strung out on my bed…”

“Don't s-stop,” Asahi gasped.

Noya paused for a moment, just a moment, to wrestle his pants and boxers down to his thighs. Didn't even take them all the way off.

The moment his cock was in view, heavy and leaking onto his stomach, Noya's hand was wrapped around the shaft and he pumped mercilessly, straddling Asahi’s thigh.

Asahi's breath left him in a rush. Oh god, he was not going to last long. He was embarrassingly worked up. It was just too good. Too real.

“Keep going,” Asahi urged again, hiccuping in air. “Tell me… How… How will you—you fuck me?”

Noya's grip tightened at that, a bit too much in his excitement, but he adjusted quickly when he saw Asahi wince. Then his grip was perfect, the drag of his fingers and his foreskin was electrifying, the flick of Noya’s thumb over the head making Asahi hiccup moans.

“I'm gonna kiss every goddamn inch of your skin,” Noya said gruffly. “You'll come so hard. So fucking hard. You'll take ages to come down.”

“How will...will you start” Asahi said, then his body left the sofa as Noya palmed the head, slid his index finger over the slit.

“I'll start just like this,” Noya said, somehow deciphering Asahi's attempt at speech. “Just like this, Azu. Just my hands until you're so close, so close you can't stand it. But with my other hand I'll spread you open. Get you so ready for me. Three fingers inside you.”

“Oh _god_ —” Asahi choked.

It was electric. All over him, need. Noya took his hand off just for a second, giving Asahi a chance to breathe. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a little rectangular packet of lube, drizzling it over his palm almost robotically before continuing.

Asahi wasn't sure whether Noya was aware of it or not but he was thrusting, grinding against Asahi's thigh in time with his strokes, circling his hips with the rolls of his palm, lost in the fantasy.

“You'll be dripping by the time you take me. And oh god—oh _god_ I'll be so deep. I'll hit your prostate every fucking time. Push your legs back and pound, my cock aching from being in you, pump your cock like this, just like this—”

“N-No- _haaa_...”

Asahi gasped sharply as his orgasm washed over him. It hit so unexpectedly, all his breath left him, abdomen spasming as pleasure washed over him, dizzying him. Noya didn’t falter, still speaking gently to him, caressing his thigh, stroking him firmly back down to earth.

Asahi’s limbs were trembling with aftershocks as his climax trickled out of him. Noya playfully pecked his softening dick, and Asahi laughed weakly.

“Here, stay still love, I’ll be right back,” Noya said softly.

Asahi blinked his eyes open, bathed in blessed hazy afterglow, and watched as Noya hurried to the kitchen to grab a few tissues to clean Asahi’s stomach. He practically skipped back into the room, looking positively elated as he helped Asahi clean up.

“How was it? Was it good?” Noya asked, vibrating with excitement. “You came, like, so fast it took me a minute to realize what was happening! And you came a lot!”

“It was so good,” Asahi sighed, lips falling into an easy smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that good from a handjob.”

Noya puffed out his chest proudly from where he knelt between Asahi’s knees. Asahi chuckled, still a little dazed from his climax, but basking in Noya’s cute-sexiness. He reached out, running his fingers through Noya’s slightly askew hair, scratching at his scalp. Noya hummed and came to rest his chin on Asahi’s thigh, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch.

“Alright,” Asahi said, once he felt some strength returning to him. “Would you like to have an orgasm now, Yuu?”

Noya’s entire being lit up like a firework.

“Hell yeah I would!”

***

Noya was hard as a rock. The bump of his clothes against the head was painful. He squatted in the most unflattering position possible, but it was the only way to provide his aching dick any relief.

Watching Asahi being sexual was something worth revelry. It was the most uninhibited, least self-conscious Noya had ever seen him. Though none of the faces anyone made during sex were what Noya would consider particularly “pretty”, the expression of absolute, uninhibited pleasure and euphoria on Asahi’s face made Noya throb with want..

It was definitely a beautiful sight to behold.

Then there was the shift, the bliss, the afterglow that overcame Asahi’s entire countenance when he was finished and Noya had him cleaned up. The tenderness of his touch, threading through Noya’s hair before trailing down his cheek, his jaw, delighted Noya. Made him feel particularly cared for.

“What would you like?” Asahi asked, almost purring. He was so relaxed, so still, and Noya almost didn't want to do anything other than curl up together and enjoy the tranquility of Asahi's mind.

If it wasn't for how fucking aroused he was.

But then there was the trouble of _how_.

“Hmmm…” Noya said, resting his cheek on Asahi's leg.

A million thoughts fought each other for brain space. There were a lot of ways to do this. Too many. He liked head, he liked vibrators, he liked his prosthetic, he liked hands… But really, he knew. He wasn't a man to ponder for long.

“Are you down with toys?”

Asahi raised his brows quizzically. “On you? Yeah, I'm fine—er, sorry, more than happy to do that. Whatever you want obv—”

Noya cut him off with a kiss, and Asahi relaxed again into Noya's lips. His arms made to wrap around Noya's body as the kiss deepened, but Noya wiggled out of Asahi's grip. Didn't want to get lost.

“Be right back,” Noya said with a cheeky wink, and he disappeared into his bedroom.

He made a beeline for the cubby he kept in his closet. It looked like a sock drawer, but it held a lot more than socks. He had quite the collection—all of which he was dying to try out with Asahi—but he didn't linger on the thought for more than a second before grabbing the one he wanted and heading back to the living room.

Asahi was sitting in the same position on the sofa, though he'd put his pants back on (unfortunate but obviously fine) and discarded his sweater (fortunate and obviously _fine_ ). As he leaned back, chest and stomach and all that fantastic hair exposed, Noya thought he'd like to just stand in his doorway and look at his boyfriend forever.

Or maybe like, at least five minutes. He was still very horny.

Asahi caught sight of him standing there, though, half-smiling and looking remarkably at peace. Noya, overcome with a sudden surge of emotion, nearly tripped over himself as he scurried back toward the sofa.

Asahi reached out for him, face all worried lines and a frown. “Are you o—”

“Super fine!” Noya assured him, gleeful as he sat beside Asahi. “Good and great. Never been better.”

 _Never been so excited to get off with someone_.

Asahi squinted skeptically but thankfully dropped the subject. Instead, he bent forward to look at the toy in Noya's hands. “Is that it?”

“Yeah!” Noya almost shouted, starting Asahi. He continued a little more quietly but with just as much enthusiasm. “It's a—well it's basically a fleshlight kind of thing for trans dudes. Do you wanna see?”

Asahi nodded, eyes bright with curiosity, and Noya held out the toy for him to examine.

It was spade-shaped, a base bit with a tube bit connecting to a head-pump bit.

“How does it work?” Asahi asked, squeezing it experimentally. It let out a pathetic almost-fart kind of sound before sucking back in twice as much air. Asahi's face was a combo of fascination and fright.

“I mean, I can totally tell you or…” Noya bit his lip, teasing.

“Or?” Asahi said with those brows going up again, handing the toy back.

“Or I can demonstrate,” Noya said.

Asahi's lips twitched. “I think I'd like a demonstration.”

Noya grinned. He reached immediately for his belt, ready to get his bit of the party started already, but Asahi caught his wrist. He looked alarmed at his own reaction and let go almost as soon as he grabbed it. His eyes darted away.

“Er sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…I kinda wanna do it.”

Noya cocked a brow. “Yeah?”

Asahi nodded, eyes rolling back to Noya's face. He didn't look aroused exactly, but hungry all the same. Hungry to touch.

Noya wasn't about to deny him that pleasure.

“Hell yeah,” he said, a thrill of nervous excitement tingling through his limbs. “Here, let’s shift around a bit. Can you sit—uh, here let me just kind of show you what I’m thinking.”

Noya gestured for Asahi to turn so that his back rested against the arm of the sofa and his legs were outstretched. His forehead winkled in confusion, but he waited patiently while Noya dragged the coffee table up to the sofa.

“There's not enough room on the couch, stretch your legs out on this,” Noya instructed, and Asahi did what he was told.

Noya grinned broadly and hopped over the table to settle between Asahi's legs, back pressed against his boyfriend's chest.

“How's this? You comfy?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Good.”

Noya was also good here. Even through his shirt, Noya could feel the warmth of Asahi's skin. He craved more. Asahi's hands weren't even _on_ him.

“Azuuuu,” Noya whined, pressing up hard against Asahi's chest. “You can touch me, you know. If you want.”

“I—yes. I do want to.” There was a hesitation in there somewhere, but it was abandoned before it made its way into the world.

Instead, Asahi touched. His hands, his _hands_ , were fire and they were on Noya then, burning him alive. Okay, maybe not quite that much, but all of his nerves were aware that he was being touched, and _how_ he was being touched, and _who_ was touching him, and each one was igniting him as Asahi started to explore his body.

Asahi started over the clothes. Just gentle, searching strokes, palms flat against Noya's body, moving up and down, mapping his contours, learning him.

“Shirt?” Asahi asked all of a sudden, curling his fingers into the bottom of Noya's tee.

Noya obeyed, scrambling with such excitement that he elbowed Asahi in the chest as he flung it aside. Asahi grunted.

“Fuck! Love I'm so—oh… _ohhhh…”_

Noya's apology and worry evaporated, because Asahi didn't even hesitate to touch him.

Holy _jesus_ it had been a long time since he'd been touched. And Noya was a pretty sexual guy, who adored foreplay, who really craved skin-to-skin contact. He'd obviously been fine without it, but it was so good, so much better being touched, being touched like _this_ , and Noya thought in a dramatic wave of emotion that he might die if it was ever taken away from him. Unless Asahi wanted to, or course. Always his choice, always—

“ _Ohhh,_ ” Noya moaned as Asahi dragged his nails across Noya’s stomach, over his ribs, every hair standing on end.

Then, Asahi was trailing his fingertips up Noya's side, then across the middle of his chest. Noya groaned, wriggling beneath the touch. Asahi ran flat palms over his chest, back down his sides, then over his stomach. Over and over he repeated the motion like he was trying to memorize Noya.

He paused after...who even knew how long. Noya was panting, arching, trembling, his mind hazy.

“Scars?” Asahi asked.

“Uh… not right now,” Noya said breathlessly, partly because he needed the sharpness of the feeling and his scars wouldn't give him the satisfaction, and partially because he wasn't sure if that would make him dysphoric. It would probably be fine but he didn't want to take any unnecessary chances.

None of this had to be said out loud, because Asahi just moved right along. To Noya's nipples. They didn't have much feeling, but Asahi played a bit with his piercings, and the tug on the outside of the bud ached pleasantly.

Noya arched into Asahi's hands, silently asking for more and being wholly unprepared for what that meant.

What it meant was Asahi nuzzling into his neck and kissing him hot and open-mouthed. It meant Asahi dragging his nails across Noya's ribs until Noya was letting out breathy gasps of pleasure. It meant one hand anchoring Noya by the waist so he wouldn't actively writhe out of Asahi's lap, while the other brushed a meandering line over Noya's scattered freckles, then down to his happy trail, down to the button of his jeans.

“Can I—”

“Oh god take them off, take it all off _please,_ ” Noya pleaded, sounding desperate and haggard, but that didn't matter because then Asahi was fumbling with his jeans, a little clumsily, and then Noya was helping him and then they were both tugging Noya's pants and boxers down to his knees, freeing him from the confines of his wretched clothes.

It felt nice for his aching cock to breathe the free air, but what Noya needed was touch, and he needed it ASAP.

“Let me show you how,” Noya said. He placed a trembling, sweaty hand over Asahi's and moved him down, just above where his cock was swollen out from his foreskin. He pressed the tips of Asahi's fingers into the unexposed shaft, then moved in slow, deliberate circles.

“D—don't touch the head, it's too… Too sens—sens— _fuck me, sweet Jesus._ ”

Noya's voice left him in a long, drawn-out groan as Asahi worked a rhythm that had Noya clawing at Asahi's thighs. It was so good, skilled and knowing and it was obvious that this was not Asahi's first rodeo as he started to vary the strokes: up and down, circling, side to side, a bit faster here, then slow enough to have Noya grinding his hips and nearly whimpering for more.

“Azu, Azu, m—oh yes,” Noya moaned, because Asahi was being uncharacteristically adventurous, trying something without Noya even having to ask.

He gripped Noya's cock between two fingers and started jerking him, strong and sure but not too hard. Noya fucked up into Asahi's hand, eyes rolling back. It was like Noya's hips and legs and stomach were churning a vat of molten pleasure, threatening to bubble over at any moment.

The only problem was that Asahi's nails were bumping the head and that was painful in a bad way. He thought idly about asking Asahi to use his knuckles and finish him off right there, but he knew what that toy did to him, how it had him by the end, and it would be selfish to take that completely disheveled look away from Asahi.

“Toy, toy,” Noya panted, reaching out for it without opening his eyes.

“Show me, please, Yuu,” Asahi murmured into Noya's ear, handing the toy over to him.

Noya groaned, precum spilling over his thighs at the sound of his name and the obvious tone of pleasured enjoyment from Asahi's voice. He nodded and used both hands to show Asahi how it was done.

One hand pushed the useless bits to the side, leaving his now throbbing erection exposed and waiting. Noya took the end of the toy with the hole and placed it over his cock, wiggling it around a bit until he got it on satisfactorily.

“So it's ah, a bit different than a fleshlight. Uses suction,” Noya explained, squeezing the bulb of the toy a few times to get enough of a vacuum of pressure tugging at his length. “And you just...just stroke…”

He tried, honest-to-god tried, to jerk it himself but he was shaking so bad he popped the vacuum with the most desperate, unsatisfied whine of his life.

“Azu please—I can't—I can't—”

“Got you,” Asahi's said, tightening his grip on Noya's hip as he took over.

After a few seconds of fumbling, Asahi must have realized his arms weren't quite long enough to make it work. The hand on Noya's side slid around his middle and hoisted him up a little closer to his body. Noya pushed his legs up and apart to give Asahi room to work, spread open and leaking onto poor Iwaizumi's sofa.

Too bad he didn't have a spare nerve in his body to care.

His system was too preoccupied by Asahi's hands working with his own. Noya pushed himself apart again, while Asahi jostled the toy into a good position.

He pumped the head a few times, until Noya shook his head for Asahi to stop.

Then he started jerking Noya, and it was heaven.

“God, god, oh god, fuck,” Noya half-whined, half-groaned. The tug on his cock was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure down his length, prickling his legs and pooling into his stomach.

He wanted this feeling to last forever. He wanted Asahi's arm around him, so fucking strong as he held Noya firmly in place. He wanted the feel of being jacked off by another hand, Asahi's hand, to fill his senses until he forgot everything else. He wanted to feel this safe, this cared for, for the rest of his waking life.

But it was too good, just too fucking good, and Noya was greedy and begging for “more” for “faster” and Asahi followed every word as Noya fell apart.

He inhaled all the air in the room it felt like as his body wound tight, ready to overflow. It was just enough warning for Noya to brokenly breathe “gonna—come—” before the springs snapped with the force of a springtrap and an orgasm that could and probably would incapacitate him was boiling through him, melting him. He bucked up uncontrollably into Asahi's furious strokes, chasing every last drop of climax.

It flared out of his spine, and like a balloon losing its air Noya collapsed in a limp, twitching heap into Asahi's lap.

Asahi had the good sense to gently peel the toy from his body. His cock twitched in aftershocks, a tingling feeling Noya had grown to enjoy. That, along with the cum that had spilled from him and was now drying on his ass and thighs and probably the couch, left Noya in an afterglow that threatened to one-shot, critical hit him right into a sex coma.

Asahi didn't make any motion to move him though. He kissed the top of Noya's disgustingly greasy and sweaty head, rubbing Noya's stomach and humming in his ear.

Dear blissful gods. Noya was going to fall asleep real fast.

There was the slight, nagging twinge of post-orgasm discomfort with his body, but it wasn't awful and it was easy to ignore. He had just enough strength to lift his hips and wrestle his boxers up and it was all good. Definitely ignorable.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” Asahi hummed amusedly in Noya’s ear, rubbing circles on his hips. “That good?”

“That good,” Noya sighed. “I think—god, I’m definitely gonna fall asleep Azu.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Not unless you want to,” Noya said, reaching up behind him to curl a hand in Asahi’s hair. “I’d prefer it if you’d stay.”

“Mmmm. I’m okay with that,” Asahi said, kissing the top of Noya’s head again. “I’m gonna make you go to bed soon though. We can’t sleep on the sofa tonight.”

“Why nottt,” Noya whined, curling up on his side and tucking tight against Asahi’s chest.

“Stop whining. Do you want to snuggle or not?” Asahi chastised, but it was without body. He sounded amused at the sight of Noya, so needy, coiled against him.

Noya huffed grumpily, but the relaxed, blessedly happy smile wouldn’t leave his lips. He didn’t fight Asahi. He was, of course, correct. But dammit, Noya was going to enjoy being with Asahi like this as long as he could—no roommates, just the two of them, the feeling of skin-on-skin after having perfect, beautiful sex for the first time.

“Azu?” Noya mumbled sleepily, already feeling himself slipping away.

“Mmm?”

“Can we keep doing that? Like, a lot? Er, well, however often you want obviously, but it was so good, you’re the best lay I’ve ever had and I just want—”

“Shhhhh,” Asahi soothed humorously, dragging his fingers up and down Noya’s arm. “We’ll take about it more later but the short answer is yes. Of course. Now go to sleep.”

Noya chuckled as Asahi’s chest rumbled with pleasant laughter, and let sleep overtake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really appreciate y'all not referring to any of the smut in this fic as “sin”, it's pretty disrespectful and it makes me wildly uncomfortable. That being said, I hope you enjoyed it and I look forward to writing more! 
> 
> The toy Noya uses is called the "BuckOff" if you wanna look it up!
> 
> Thank you to [floral-fae](http://floral-fae.tumblr.com) for editing  
> Check out my [tumblr](http://skiesinlove.tumblr.com) for more quality garbage :D


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